CHAPTER TWELVE

"This can play any music you ask it to," Jareth placed a crystal with red and black smoke shimmering inside, on the table in front of her.

"Even come on, Eileen?" Sarah asked innocently.

Jareth's eye twitched. "If you wish."

"Hmm, interesting, and what purpose does it serve?"

"Did I not say you could have some choice over the music at the ball?"

"You did, but I have yet to tell you my decision," Sarah sipped her tea, widening her eyes and innocently batting her long lashes at him.

They were seated at the breakfast table, sans Sevlydi, much to Sarah's relief. She chastised herself for preferring Jareth's company.

Jareth grinned, undeterred. "Pick a song, any song."

Sarah wanted to pick something that would rub Jareth the wrong way but really couldn't think of anything.

"I don't know," Sarah flapped her hands. "Come -"

"Anything but that,' he growled.

"-Undone, by Duran Duran," Sarah finished sweetly. Jareth showed her how to start it a song and then how to finish it.

The crystal started emitting the opening notes of the pop song. Sarah gaped at it, and then, at Jareth.

"Point made," she said, turning back to the crystal. "Impressive."

"Mine, immaculate dream made breath and skin, I've been waiting for you," sang the crystal ball. Sarah tapped it, and it stopped playing. She didn't need Jareth reading any more into her song choice.

"It's yours," Jareth smiled, straightening his cuffs and smoothing his lapels.

Sarah had missed music, and this was such a beautiful gift. "And what do I have to do in return?"

"Nothing."

"There's always a catch," Sarah raised a brow. "You fae don't do anything for others without a price."

"Just so," he nodded. "I am the exception to the rule with you, my dear. I am experimenting with your mortal sentimentality and giving you a gift with no strings attached."

Sarah smiled as she looked down at the crystal in her palm. Half of her wanted to scorn his words as pure sarcasm, but the other half believed his sincerity.

"I'm ready to give you an answer."

Sevlydi was finally in the warm embrace of his lover, Rica, after so many obstacles. They kissed and caressed each other, lying naked in Rica's bed. Their kisses urgent after so long; their touching, no less desperate.

Sevlydi rolled his lover over, massaging his supple bottom while kissing down Rica's neck and shoulder blades.

"Forgive me, my love," Sevlydi growled into his neck. "It's been too long. I need you now. And fast."

He kissed Rica's jaw as he rubbed his erection into the cleft of his bottom. One application of liquid from a crystal bottle provided enough lubricant to get started. He couldn't remain patient any longer. He pushed the tip of his cock into Rica, both men groaned in exquisite agony. Sevlydi inched in slowly as Rica elevated his arse higher into the air so he could fondle his testicles.

Sevlydi closed his eyes and gasped as his nuts finally rested against Rica's backside, his cock now completely inserted up to the hilt. Rica swore in pleasure, as he took his cock in his hand, all weight resting on his one arm now. Thankfully, Rica was a strong fae.

Sliding back out, just as slowly as he entered, Sevlydi let out a loud moan. But without warning, he slammed into Rica again, and again; faster and faster. Rica met him thrust for thrust, jerking his hand along the shaft of his penis.

"Oh my Prince," Rica called as he was ridden furiously by his high-ranking lover. Both Rica's hand and Sevlydi's pelvis become blurs in their ecstasy.

"Fuck," Sevlydi cried as he shot his hot, full load within him. Rica followed suit into his hand shortly after.

They were just getting their breath back, Sevlydi was slowly and tenderly kissing Rica's back while he withdrew his cock, when they both turned their heads to the side. A popping noise had grabbed their attention.

"Goblin," Sevlydi breathed, his blood leaving his body. "A spy."

"You think King Jareth is spying on you?"

"No, he knows about us," he ran a hand down Rica's spine. "He wouldn't have any reason to spy on us."

They disengaged from each other, staring wild-eyed and fretfully towards each other.

"I surmise that a goblin has been bribed or coerced to spy for someone else," he bit his lip as he stroked Rica's sandy, curly hair. "I need to tell Jareth. I'm sorry, my love, but I can't stay."

"What will happen to me?" Rica's voice was small and tense.

"I'm not sure," Sevlydi shook his long blonde hair free, before re-tying it. "I should never have come when I knew this was so risky. Jareth needs to fucking hurry up and marry, so their attention is off me. The arse. He spends so much time dangling that mortal along, and the longer it takes, the more Nudalun and Omre push for his marriage to Forsythia."

Sevlydi hit the post of the canopy bed with the palm of his hand. "He has continually ignored the orders The High Council have sent. He doesn't even comprehend the number he has disregarded. And even from our father now too."

"Why so much interest?" Rica pushed Sevlydi's hands away, running his fingers through Sevlydi's long straight hair.

"If he doesn't marry the mortal soon, he'll have no choice. Nudalun is the only one with children. Omre and his wife had been trying for years with no luck. And there have been no runners since that Champion of his."

"Why doesn't he just marry her?" Rica asked, helping Sevlydi plait his hair.

"Who?"

"The mortal."

"He wants her to love him," Sevlydi barked with laughter. "He could just require her to marry him, but I know my brother. His pride won't allow a forced marriage, but rather he wants her to want him, to choose him. But she is headstrong and refuses to see him as anything but her enemy."

"So why not marry Forsythia, keep his family happy, and then take the Champion as his lover?" Rica kissed the Prince behind the ear before handing him his clothes.

"Your guess is as good as mine," he shrugged, pulling his shirt over his head. "But the longer he waits to woo her, the more impatient our siblings get. King Effistod, my father, will start putting pressure on him too. They see Forsythia is a good match for Jareth. A puppet, Nudalun and Omre can use, to their benefit."

"How so?"

"The Labyrinth is a source of magical power, but as you know, not as significant as the Mountains of Haddoyne where Nudalun rules," Sevlydi shoved his legs into his trousers. "However, while that magic wanes, the Goblin Kingdom waxes. They seek to control the King, and therefore the Labyrinth. Little do they know that The Champion will prove a fierce defender too. Love, it's for our benefit he marries the mortal."

"How's that?" Rica handed his lover his boots and jacket, while he still lingered naked and erect.

"If Jareth married the champion, as per the prophecy of the pearl, the two of them combined would be more powerful than Navas," he shrugged his jacket on and stomped his feet into his boots. "I consulted recently with Briyash, the Keeper of the Pearls. The bride-pearl he was supplied, not only led him to the mortal chit but originated from the rarest unicorn in existence."

He paused and straightened his clothes, watching his reflection in the mirror.

"That unicorn granted that pearl," he continued. "My brother doesn't know this. Briyash and I, and now you are the only ones who know. Usually, the fae and elves steal pearls from the creatures that wept them. Not this pearl. The unicorn granted this one. It was predicted by the virescent and amethyst unicorn that the finder of the pearl will release all of the Tears of Pearls, the Council of Mythical creatures will exist once again, seeking sanctuary in the Goblin Kingdom."

Rica gasped. "Why does King Jareth not know this?"

"Because I want my brother to marry for love, not politics," Sevlydi explained. "He can't choose to marry the mortal, just to fulfil the prophecy. He has to do it for love. He has to come to the right conclusion himself, to travel to the moonstone caves with her, and not just out of obligation. It's the way these prophecies work. They test the purity of the heart or some such nonsense. If his motivation is purely for seeking power, then it will not be realised."

"How was it you were allowed to know?"

"I haven't the time for that story, Rica."

Rica kissed him in response.

"With so much magic, power and protection, the Goblin Kingdom will again stand alone and out of Navas' shadow. But-" Sevlydi rambled on.

"But?"

Sevlydi sighed. "But he needs to marry the mortal to make it come true. And if it comes true, we get a haven to be lovers. Jareth won't care if I never marry a woman. We can be together forever legally. However, he is fucking everything up. He has tricked her, and she is a mere, soft mortal with mortal emotions. She won't forgive him. He has to marry her, Rica. I can't live without you. He has to marry her!"

"So we make him marry her," Rica suggested, straightening Sevlydi's collar.

"The King has already stopped with the deceit," he arranged his cuffs. "His alter ego is in banishment. If she ever finds out, it is quite over for us. But now this - this Goblin spy has put a spanner in the works. I have to get back to my brother immediately."

"I understand," he grinned. "I will wait out the short term, and therefore I can have you in the long term."

"Hope and wish that the mortal marries the King," Sevlydi kissed Rica on the lips. "And soon. Your life is on the line if anyone finds out about us before the Kingdom is a Sanctuary. Before the lifting of the fae-curse."

"Tell me your answer" Jareth implored, placing his teacup down in the saucer, sloshing tea across the table. "Don't waste another second."

"I have decided to attend your ball," Sarah smiled at the boyish expression that lit up Jareth's face.

"Truly?"

"Yes, but it's my prerogative to act like I don't want to be there," Sarah flipped the curtain of dark hair over her shoulder.

"That's a bit childish, is it not?" Jareth bristled at her statement.

Jutting her chin forward, she narrowed her eyes. "I don't want people to get the wrong idea."

"What idea would that be?"

"I am there to be your champion, and that's all," Sarah explained, unruffled by his dangerous glare. "I will not worship the ground you walk on, and I won't pretend to anything."

"No one is asking you to pretend to anything-"

"Prince Sevlydi seems to think I should be fawning over you with gratitude," she shook her head. "I won't be doing that."

Confusion marred his brow before his face relaxed into its usual stiff indifference. "You're coming, and that is the main thing. I have lots of planning to attend to so I will not be joining you for luncheon, but I will see you at dinner."

He rose stiffly, bowing his head to her with forced civility, and left. He had gone from boyish wonder and excitement to cold politeness in seconds. Sarah wasn't sure how she had gone so wrong. It was natural for her to want to keep Jareth at arm's length.

Sarah's acceptance of Jareth's gift and the invitation was no more profound than face value discernibility. Just because she was going to the ball, didn't mean she was going to shag Jareth or end up marrying him. She had only thought to clarify that fact.

Sarah spent the morning perusing books in the grand library again. She was joined for morning tea by her trio of friends. True to some of Jareth's words, he didn't join her for lunch, but contrary to what he had also said, she saw him before dinnertime.

"I thought you might like to spend a few hours in the Labyrinth," he had appeared directly after her friends had left. She was arranging all her used dishes on the lunch tray that goblins had brought her earlier. Just because Goblin servants were tending to her every need, didn't mean that she should become slovenly and careless. If clearing up after herself made someone's job a bit easier, then she'd do what she could.

"The servants can do that," Jareth waved his hands in the direction of her table.

"They can, but I'm just making their jobs a little more manageable," she sighed. A King would never understand, especially one as spoilt as the Goblin King.

"You're too kind," he frowned. "Humans have such a capacity for kindness, I have found."

"And extreme cruelty too," Sarah admitted, thinking of wars, famine, colonisation, white supremacy, slavery, and every other fucked up thing going on in the world. She finished tidying up and then straightened to face Jareth as he stood, her hands on hips directing his glare at her.

"In your world, yes," he nodded, running his gloved hand through his untamed hair. "Humans that live Underground have not displayed many signs of evil. Except for the ones raised by faes, as they are often cruelly treated and lose their humanity as a result. Magic takes whatever weaknesses are inherent in the human, and hones them into less moral traits, even by fae standards. We generally hold very different morals to humanity."

"Your father had four children," Sarah suddenly thought. "And none of them Stolen Pearls, is that right?"

"Yes, we're all his children," he shrugged. "Unnaturally gifted, I guess. The four of us are much sought after by other royal families for our perceived fertility rates. My sister Nudalun is the only one to have made a crucial marriage and then had children. She is the only one who didn't care who she married. Omre is married but has no children yet."

Jareth spoke with a flat, emotionless voice. He looked up at her, giving her a sad smile. "My mother married my father for love when his first wife passed on. My father is a complex creature. I believe he loves my mother in his way. I grew up not caring one jot about marriage. I couldn't have cared less who it was too, as long as they left me alone. But now-"

He snapped out of the trance-like state he had temporarily disappeared within.

"Apologies, Lady Sarah," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "You do not need to hear my woes."

"No, it's fine," Sarah offered a warm smile. She found his use of her title bemusing. "Forgive the term, but it almost humanised you."

Jareth gave a wan smile in return. "I envy you, your humanity. The faes are cold, aloof, and selfish creatures. They don't experience love like you humans do."

"You talk of them, as if you're not one," Sarah arched a brow.

"My mother's mother- " he swallowed. "Was a Stolen Pearl. Please keep that to yourself, but that makes me part human, I suppose, but still mostly fae."

Sarah gawked at him. Then noticing his perplexed look closed her mouth with an audible snap. "Ironic that you then do all the stealing."

It was out of her mouth before she had a chance to think. Annoyance and grief flitted across his face.

"Yes, ironic," he said coldly. "But I want you to know that it is not my chosen profession. Sarah, I don't enjoy the Stolen Pearl trade."

"You don't?"

"I may be fae, I may be cruel, I may be arrogant, though in all these hundreds of years only one good thing has ever come out of the Stolen Pearl trade," he strode towards her, placing his gloved hands lightly on her shoulders. "I may be many things, but a child thief is not something I have aspired to become. It comes with the territory; the curse of the fae. I want you to believe me, Sarah. If you believe nothing more of what I have ever told you, believe that I loathe the Stolen Pearl trade. I took your brother because I was obliged, not because I wanted to take him."

"Why did you have to?" A timorous voice.

"Sarah, if I refused, then the Labyrinth would have taken him, and you, anyway," he sighed, his fingers tensing their grip on her shoulders. "It's not the Labyrinth's fault. She is caught in the curse as much as we are. When the curse originated, the fae needed a way to get children. Goblins used to steal them, willy-nilly. The fae claimed them as their own, but when the first Goblin King ascended, he didn't agree with stealing the children, for the sake of merely stealing."

He paused, breathing deeply. "To create a game he designed the Labyrinth and the red book. It intended a chance to win back the taken child. A chance was all it was, as the humans never won. The adults who wished away their children, returned unburdened. The first Goblin King only wanted undesired, outcast children rather than just any child. He, like you, believed in fairness."

Sarah quirked her brow at this reference.

"Unfortunately, The King didn't believe in complete fairness as he made the Labyrinth nearly impossible to beat," he growled. "The fae attached a curse to ensure that if either the Goblin King or the adults refused to run, that the child would still be theirs. I had to offer you the chance to run. I had to take your brother. The alternative would be unimaginable. Both of you would have been fae children by now, impure and tainted. Just as cruel, arrogant and unkind as I am."

Sarah absorbed the information. If it was true, she had no reason to hate the King for taking her brother. Someone would have stolen Toby regardless. Jareth was right, at least giving her a chance. Sarah had retained her humanity because of him. She was the one that had said the right words, for that Sarah couldn't blame Jareth. But he had ensured Sarah and Toby would at least have the opportunity to keep their humanity and return home.

"Thank you," Sarah whispered. Jareth took his hands off her shoulders, letting them hang limply at his side. Sarah summoned up all her bravery, and threw her arms around Jareth's neck, hugging him to her. "Thank you for giving me a chance."

His arms snaked around her waist, holding her close to him. His scent and warmth washed over her in intoxicating waves. She felt the hum of his voice flow through her body as he started talking again.

"As for everything else, every other claim against my name, the bog, the cleaners - I did what I had to slow you down. Hate me for those, but know that you were never in any real harm. The design of the Labyrinth is to test you, not harm you."

"Even the peach?"

Jareth pushed her gently away from him, to look into her face. "It was below me, and I am sorry for it."

"Why did you do it?"

"A cheap trick," he explained. "You had gone further than most with time left. No one had won before. I had to do my job to slow you down. I am bound, Sarah. The curse binds the Labyrinth, as it binds me. You exceeded expectations. Grown adults have quit the challenge before they've even started, but a mere child took it on and won. I gave you the peach out of curiosity, but you conquered it all the same. But without it, I may never have discovered..."

"Discovered what?"

"What it was like to dance with you," he closed his eyes. "Discovered something bigger than myself."

Sarah laughed. "I am sure you have had many, many dances with people more elegant and more dainty-footed than me."

"Undoubtedly," his usual cheeky grin graced his face. "But none that have ever captivated me as you do."

Blushing, Sarah took a step back from him, and with a weak voice, asked if they were going to visit the Labyrinth.

He nodded gravely. "Before we go, may I ask you one question?"

Agreeing, she tilted her head to show she was listening. Several emotions crossed his visage as if he was struggling how to word his inquiry. Or perhaps he was attempting to decide which one of a plethora of questions he was going to select.

"Why did you decide that you would come to the ball after all?" he finally asked.

Whatever she thought he was going to ask, that wasn't on the top of her list. Why had she agreed?

"I am asking myself the same question," she joked.

He just raised a brow and waited for her to proceed.

"I don't trust you, but I can see you're trying hard to ensure my alliance," she furnished. "Other than that, I don't know why I agreed."

Jareth licked his lips, blinked and tapped his finger against his nose. "There must be a reason."

"I'm not sure," she bit her top lip and sighed. "I guess curiosity is one driving factor."

"Anything else?"

"You convinced me with your sheer determination," Sarah squeezed one eye shut, struggling to find the justification for her choice. "I want to see my friends, and part of me is intrigued by the thought of dressing up and dancing. Though, I am not going to kid myself that I am in any way attending a fairy tale ball. I quite expect egg on my face by the end of the night."

She scoffed at the very idea that she would be comfortable at this ball.

Jareth nodded. "Thank you for your forthrightness. I will strive to make it as pleasant for you as I can, and will personally scramble any eggs before they have a chance to land on your face."

Sarah laughed. "I'd like to see that."

"Let us go visit the Labyrinth."

He held out his hand, Sarah slipping hers into his gloved grasp. They whirled away through time and space until they ended up in the walled section near the beginning of the Labyrinth.

The moment her feet touched the ground, sanctuary, safety and protection enveloped her with an all-encompassing feeling. She belonged here, and she knew it. She opened her eyes to see Jareth studying her face.

"Is everything satisfactory?"

"Yes," Sarah nodded, barely aware in he still clasped her hand. "I feel - I feel an overwhelming sense of- safety."

He gave her a quizzical look and then smiled. "You're the Champion, and she is welcoming you back."

Sarah enjoyed the sensations rushing through her as she became acquainted again with Labyrinth. The feelings were warm baths after being caught in the rain, they were the first sip of water after running a marathon, and they were the first dive underwater on a blistering summer's day.

Taking deep breaths, she started looking around. Things looked similar but different from how she remembered it the first time. Details she missed on her run because she was so focused on finding her brother, such as carvings and other enhancements, distributed throughout the walls, the odd terrazzo tiles inserted upon the ground.

"She likes you," Jareth said from her elbow. It was then that she realised they were still holding hands. She peeled her hand away from his, and he let go with an air of reluctance.

"She does?"

"I can sense her trust and faith in you," Jareth patted the walls with his free hand. "Parents usually fail the tests, due to their incompetence and immoral behaviour, but you passed every one of them. The Labyrinth wanted you to win."

He shook his head and looked at her. "She calls you Hi'livé," he continued as he scanned her face, his odd blue eyes penetrating her armour. "The highest honour."

"What does it mean?"

"Challenge breaker, or winner," he answered. "It's 'Champion' in an old, long-dead elven language."

"She speaks to you?"

"Not like we converse," Jareth tapped the wall with a finger. "It's nuanced, but I sense things she has to say. I hear Hi'livé in dreams and on the wind."

Sarah listened, only hearing the light breeze skip around the corridors of the maze, like a faint hum. She turned to see Jareth leaning against the wall, standing on one leg, his other leg bent, his booted foot resting on the bricks, his eyes closed, his head tipped back, and face to the heavens. He was like a cat, soaking up the last rays of the afternoon sun.

She blushed as her eyes travelled over his form, and his eyes flicked open as she inspected him. His lips curled into a smug smile. While her eyes were still on him, he lowered his leg and crooked the other one against the wall.

It was a very self-conscious gesture, and it didn't escape her notice. She blushed again, cleared her throat and turned away.

She picked a direction, heading into it. She hadn't gone far when she noticed Jareth was trailing her. She tucked her hands under her armpits and carried on, picking random directions. They maintained this tranquillity approaching nigh on half an hour.

"Would you like to come this way?" he had stopped by an innocuous-looking path, gesturing with his black-gloved hands.

She turned around and went the way he indicated. Why not? The path was short, ending with one small turn before opening into a clearing. Conical topiary trees lined the borders of the walled space, and a mirror-like pond sat in the middle, almost right up to the trunks of the trees.

Across the mirror-pond, there was a grass path sprawling across the water in a spiral pattern, with smaller spirals branching off from the main route, like the fronds of a fern. Some of the spirals ended with circles in which various flowers and shrubs grew. In the centre of the largest circle was a shallow pit with assorted cushions and rugs. A low table already displayed with food, sat front and centre, inviting and enticing Sarah to partake.

"How come I never stumbled across this when I did my run?" Sarah asked, in awe. "Not that I would have wanted to, because I wouldn't have needed the distraction."

"You only saw a small portion of the Labyrinth," he stepped closer to her. "There are plenty of other wonders to explore. But you'll have plenty of time for that."

"I won't," Sarah refuted. "I said I would attend the ball, but then I should be heading back to Cloverfield."

Jareth ignored her, leading the way down to the cushion pit. Sarah followed warily. Gracefully, like a leopard, he folded his body down into the cushion pit and stretched out on his side supported by an elbow amongst the cushions.

Sarah followed, sitting cross-legged on the opposite side of the pit. He popped a grape in his mouth, closing his eyes briefly in pleasure. Sarah found the sight of him in repose and enjoying culinary delights almost too much to bear. She had to admit that whatever confusing feelings he attempted to evoke, the attraction was something that came naturally.

Jareth was, as he claimed, a highly attractive and desirable fae. His features were just distinctive, but not too perfect. His crooked smile was still beautifully flawed. She suspected he'd make any imperfection attractive. That made her irrationally cross.

Of course, Jareth noticed her perusal, but he just smiled at her. A pleasant one, without his usual smugness or malice. She felt her heart contract and her stomach flutter, but she didn't look away. She popped a grape into her mouth, without taking her eyes off him.

His eyes darkened, but there was no other noticeable change. Sarah thought back to her dream where they had both been nakedly kissing in the lake; the thought sent tingles shooting down her spine, not to mention some slickness settling between her legs. Despite their history, despite his arrogance, she was starting to admit defeat. She was attracted to the Goblin King. It was easier to deny when she concentrated on hating him, but as she got to know him better, her resolve was gradually eroding.

She imagined those powerful, yet nimble hands touching her or those smooth, sensual lips kissing her, or those blue-steel eyes appraising her as she lay naked in his bed.

"Sarah?"

Cursing under her breath, she belatedly realised he had asked her a question.

"Sorry," she scratched her temple. "Could you repeat the question?"

Jareth shifted, raising his leg and propping it on the wall of the pit, ensuring certain parts of his anatomy came into more potent contrast against his light grey trousers.

Sarah flicked her eyes down to the food tray, selecting a sweet and placing it into her mouth as a distraction.

"I asked if the Spriggets were good to you," he repeated, casually, though she assumed, internally he was feeling anything but calm.

"Yes, of course," Sarah agreed. "They quartered me for two years and provided for all my needs."

"And farm life suited you?"

"It was different from what I am used to moreover it took a while to get a handle on it all, but I loved my time with them," she answered honestly. "I liked hard work, and they were very kind people. I was fortunate they found me. Much preferable to being a kept woman."

She couldn't resist having a dig at him for how her life was right at this moment. He raised one upswept brow but nodded at her words.

"You have an independent spirit, precious," he said. "But your time with my subjects will help you gain the Vox populi."

"Popular voice?" Sarah hesitated.

"Indeed," he placed a morsel of cheese on the end of a fork before sliding it off with his teeth. "As Champion, as Nobility, your position is unique, but I believe you would make a respectable ambassador for our subjects."

"I'm not sure I follow," she bit the side of her lip between her canines.

"You're a human, and a Noble one based on your Championship," he reasoned. "There is no better candidate to speak for our human citizens, than a highly ranked human such as yourself."

"So I have a job?" Sarah puzzled.

"Of sorts," he grinned.

"Of sorts? Let me guess it's unpaid," she rolled her eyes.

"Indeed not," Jareth sat up looking affronted. "You will be paid out of my treasury. Of course, if you can handle being in my employ."

Sarah grimaced. No, she really couldn't but earning her pay and having an actual job made a huge difference to her purpose here. A reason to stay, or something to distract her from missing Toby. Something to aspire to instead of the same routine of farm work. It may even be enjoyable.

"What exactly would I have to do?"

"Visit the towns, take note of any complaint, liaise with me so we can fix or remedy their issues," he lay back down, his affront, mollified. "I will pay you handsomely."

"The Spriggets deserve to have something extra to play with," Sarah smiled. "They work so hard, and I've never paid a cent for my stay. It will be good to give something back."

Jareth frowned. "I'd be paying you, not the Spriggets, Sarah."

"Yes, but I'd be paying my way to stay in their house," Sarah reminded him. "I will still have to live somewhere."

Jareth's nostrils flared, but he turned away to look over the water without another word.

Sarah blinked before helping herself to more food. They sat in silence, listening to the birdsong drifting across the breeze, and the faint ripples of the water as it gently lapped at the fern-like pattern.

"So I assume I'd start after the ball?"

Some of the tension left his face as he turned back to look at her. "Whenever you like. I shall accompany you on tour, and introduce you to your Second-in-charge. I will be on hand until you're comfortable with the job. I won't throw you in the deep end, Sarah."

"My second?"

"An assistant of sorts," he gave a soft smile. "A human most likely, to help with paperwork and logistics."

"Ah, thank you," Sarah mumbled. "That's thoughtful."

"Once you get comfortable, you'll have no issues," he sat back up. "You were designed for the job. You already charmed three of my subjects against me."

Sarah allowed herself a small smile when she determined he was speaking in jest.

"Thank you for this," she smiled again. "Especially when it's not like I'm going to be sticking around forever."

"Where else do you plan on going? Jareth's face paled, imperceptibly.

"I'm not going to give up on getting Toby back," Sarah gritted her teeth. "I can't help him down here."

Jareth frowned. "So you still want to go Aboveground?"

"Yes, when I have a plan," she realised he could just send her back right here and now, but something was preventing her from asking him to do so. Not merely the reality of so much time having had transpired or the fact she had magic or Jareth notifying her she had all but ceased ageing. Nor was she being held back by her title or her position.

With horror, she realised that she had never been happier Underground, than these past two days arguing and bickering with the Goblin King, despite the overhanging sorrow of Terry's departure. As if in slow motion, the realisation dawned on her and she didn't like it. She could admit she was attracted to him, but enjoying his insolent company was going too far.

With the horror metamorphosing within her as adrenaline, she suddenly felt the need to get away from him. She found herself pushing out of the pillow pit and her feet slowly leading her along the frond back to the main trunk. She found the exit and started running, running to escape, running to burn off the adrenaline, running to ignore her growing attraction for her once-enemy-recently turned ally.

She didn't know how long she ran. Only when Sarah noticed the shadow of an owl appear before her, she stopped, gasping for breath and clutching her side.

Jareth descended as a barn owl on top of the wall directly in front of her. He tipped his head and then with a swoop of his wings, landed on the ground as his fae-self.

"Sarah, you may be the Champion, but please don't run off into the Labyrinth again," he said with anger dripping off every syllable. "She protects you, but somethings even we can not save you from."

Sarah puffed and weakly nodded as she tried to catch her breath. The stern look left his face, replaced by concern.

"Why did you run away?" his voice soft, uncertain, raw.

"Because I felt an unfamiliar feeling and it terrified me," Sarah answered honestly between breaths. "I want to go home. I want Toby back. But I realise I can't - I can't."

"Sarah, I am still planning a way to -"

Not that," she shook her head, dark hair flying everywhere. "I can't go back. I can't go back home."

"I can send you back if that's what you truly want -"

"Corporally, maybe," she laughed bitterly. "But not emotionally or mentally. You're right. You haven't said it in so many words, but you're right. I don't belong there anymore."

"And do you belong here, Sarah?"

"Yes, no, I don't know," she flapped her hands around in annoyance. "Certainly the Labyrinth thinks I belong. I feel it; I know it, but it's not whole."

Jareth quirked a brow in blatant confusion.

"I can't explain," she turned away from him, clutching her elbows in each hand. "You probably think I'm ridiculous, but the Labyrinth is my home. I belong, but something is missing."

"I don't think so at all," he said smoothly. "Aside from running off and your earlier refusal to attend the ball with me, you're not ridiculous, not for feeling like you belong here."

Both brows raised, she spun around to face him again. He stood, hands behind his back, an amused look plastered on his pale face.

"You feel it because it's true," he carried on, undeterred by Sarah's lack of response. "As for what's missing, I could hazard a guess, but I don't think my guess would be particularly welcome to you right now."

Searching his face, she could only sense earnestness and no dishonest intent.

"You're probably right," Sarah agreed. Any theory of his was bound to be suggestive. "I probably don't want to know what your guess is."

A shadow flitted across his face, yet he regained composure within seconds. He held out his hand.

"Shall we return to our repast or would you like to return to the castle?"

Eyeing his hand, she considered her choice. "Could we not just walk a little while?"

Jareth nodded, retracting his hand.

"Unless you're in a hurry to return to your castle," she prodded.

"Indeed not," he walked in pace with her. "I much prefer to remain in your company."

"I didn't take you for a sucker for punishment," Sarah laughed breezily.

"How is walking with you a punishment?"

"Well, I am no Ttchl or Pifinarifa, but probably just as belligerent with regards to you," Sarah teased.

"Ttchl and pifinarifa," he scratched his chin. "You know these creatures?"

"The youngest Spriggets were determined that I am "Sarah" who either saved babies or goblins from either the Ttchl or Pifinarifa," Sarah explained. "Then I married a Prince or a King or no-one at all. My origin story was a bone of contention with the children. I, of course, preferred the version where I didn't marry a soul, and would rather take my chances with a Ttchl."

"You never told them the truth?"

"How could I?" Sarah rubbed her forehead. "If I told them who I was, they may have shipped me off to you straight away."

"You're here with me now, and is it that inadequate?"

"Jareth, I- " She recoiled at the use of his name. "I mean, Your Majesty, I didn't know how vindictive you would be. I didn't want to risk my life or my chances of getting back to Toby by rousing your ire."

"Please, dispense with my title," he clasped his hands behind his back as they continued walking. "Your fears are understandable, and however reasonable they are, they remain unjustified. You are right to not trifle with the fae. However, you're under the Labyrinth's protection, and now mine."

His hand reached out and tapped her silver bracelet. "Please be rest assured that your life is in no danger from me."

"I believe you," Sarah smiled. "But you know that. You must be aware of how persuasive you are."

Jareth cocked his head and offered a complacent smirk. "I am, but I have no power over you, remember?"

"And yet, you have convinced me my life will come to no harm with you," Sarah reiterated.

"I am relieved," he exhaled. "At least your hate of me no longer encompasses fear for your life."

"But that doesn't mean you won't find other ways to trick me or torture me," Sarah murmured. "Keeping me alive is the bare minimum."

"We're allies, I have no reason to harm you in any shape or form," his face lined with anguish. "Sarah, there is something I need to tell you."

He stopped her with his hand on her elbow, suddenly looking years older; his face worn, and lined, his brow furrowed and his eyes glazed with trepidation.

"Sarah, I - "

"Your Majesty," came a squeaky voice from behind them. They both turned to see a goblin hovering in the entranceway to their current corridor.

"What?" Jareth barked, with his hand still resting on her elbow. "What is it, ChipChop?"

"It's Prince Sevlydi in your throne room. Says it's 'mergency," ChipChop blurted in one breath.

Jareth closed his eyes and growled, his hand subconsciously gripping tighter to her elbow.

"Sarah, we have to go back," he pulled her closer to him. Sarah instinctively closed her eyes.

When they were grounded, she saw Sevlydi pacing back and forth in Jareth's throne room.

"Prince Sevlydi, what is it?" Jareth asked in a strained regal voice, as he released Sarah's arms from his hold. Sevlydi's eyes flicked to Sarah and back to Jareth. "Whatever you came to say, you can say in front of her."

Sarah flushed at the amount of trust Jareth placed in her at that moment. He must esteem her bring her into their confidence.

Sevlydi narrowed his eyes at her. "I don't think I can."

"Say it," Jareth growled. "She has my trust."

"So be it," Sevlydi clenched his fists. "I was with - with Rica, and a Goblin caught us."

Sarah frowned. Who was Rica? Why would it matter if a goblin caught him?

"Caught as in?" Jareth placed two fingers across his lips.

"As in caught with Rica," his eyes flicked to Sarah as if challenging her to judge him. Sarah kept her facial expressions as neutral as she could manage. "We have a spy in our midst."

"We have a spy in our midst," seemed to echo around the room.

Jareth's face paled. "A goblin?"

"Yes, a goblin," Sevlydi growled. "Someone must have corrupted him because it certainly wasn't you that sent him."

"Just so," Jareth rubbed his forehead. "Firstly, take Rica into hiding. I recommend Rolom Hills or Galeci Peninsula. Then return here. You absolutely must not have any contact with him after that. That is until we know who that information ends up with, and what we discover they use it for."

Sevlydi nodded as his eyes flicked to Sarah, who remained uncomfortably still and silent.

"If they know about us, then we can assume they know about -" Sevlydi began.

"That is my problem, Sev, not yours," he dismissed his brother's concerns, though it had occurred to him that whoever was using his goblin to spy on his brother, was probably in receipt of the knowledge of Terry, or his plans to marry Sarah. If he was correct about his theories concerning the responsibility for the corruption of his goblin, then it was plausible Jareth would face the High Court for trying to select his personal choice of a bride, over Forsythia. His cousin, the High King, had given him time to find his wife, but he had pushed the boat out on that one.

"Trust me, brother," he strode forward to cup his brother's face in his hands. "Lady Sarah is my ally, and I trust her. Now go and keep your love safe."

Sevlydi tossed one more glance at Sarah's frozen form, before disappearing from the spot.

"He has a gay lover," Sarah stated when they were alone again.

"He does," Jareth confirmed as he turned back to face her. "I know that doesn't bother you."

"Of course not," Sarah swallowed. "But it is illegal for him, and you is it not?"

"It is illegal for royalty, indeed," he nodded gravely. "Are you concerned?"

"He may not like me, but he doesn't deserve to have his relationship jeopardised because of who he loves," Sarah shook her head. Her rich dark, silky hair shimmering in the dim light of his throne room. How he longed to run his fingers through her locks, and smooth away the worries that collected upon her brow. "Will he get into much trouble?"

"He may have to face court, but Rica may have to face worse," he shuddered. He had been so careless. His preoccupation with Sarah had potentially exposed Sevlydi, by riling up Nudalun and Omre. That was one theory. He strongly suspected Meffod and Yarbro Pinnsburr, but his half-siblings had to be the puppet masters. The Pinnsburr's had longed for revenge, potentially having killed Sarah's parents, driven Toby away, kidnapped Sarah and now going after his brother. Now that Sarah was out of their reach, they were finding other ways to try and hurt him. It made him want to cling to Sarah all the more. "It may not have escaped your notice, that I am not very popular with my half brother and sister. They long to punish me for reasons only they know."

"Perhaps your human side?" Sarah suggested.

"Come, come," he laughed. "Do not give me a reasonable answer. You are supposed to disparage my character and sling crushing insults about my person."

"I can if you like," Sarah grinned. "Your pants are too tight, and your hair reminds me of Tina Turner."

"I know of this Tina Turner you speak of," he chuckled. "Usually, I would punish insults to my hair, but she is an exceptional singer, much admired in your world. I will take it as a compliment. Try again."

"Fine, your pants are too tight, and you wear too much make-up," Sarah shrugged with a grin that was driving him wild. He wanted to kiss it off her face.

"Ah, I am so glad you noticed the tightness of my pants," he grinned even wider watching the blush stain her cheeks. "And I wear no make-up."

"It's natural?" she indicated her brows, eyes and nose.

"They are fae markings," he leaned forward. "You can touch it if you want. See if it comes off."

He watched the struggle play out across her face before she tentatively reached a hand out to him. He leant in closer and nearly cried with exuberance, as her fingers brushed his skin. He tried to remain neutral, but it was arduous as she was touching him for the first time willingly, as himself. He examined her green eyes as she explored his face, noticing little flecks around her iris. She was so close he could smell her enticing aroma of magic mixed with cinnamon, vanilla and sugar. He watched as she glanced at her fingertips.

"Wow," she breathed.

"Perfectly natural," he triumphed. "But I can just as easily change the colours, remove them, lighten them, enhance them or deepen them."

"Huh," Sarah rubbed her fingertips with her thumb. "Cool trick."

"You're easily impressed."

"I don't have access to magic, remember and still have to put my make-up on the mortal way," she stuck her hand on her hip.

"Give it time, Sarah," he reassured her. "Your magic will manifest, and you can have magnificent brows and hair too."

Sarah's eyes darted to his hair, and then back to his face with a sceptical look. He mimicked her stance and then held out a warning finger to her.

"Do not even think about criticising my hair," he admonished playfully.

Sarah took a few steps back. "It looks like a well-maintained bird's nest."

"How fast can you run, Sarah?" he gave a mock, malicious smile.

Sarah's eyes widened before she shrieked and turned away to run out of the throne room. He watched her leave with a predatory grin. He gave her a few moments before he transported out of the chamber.

Sarah darted away from the Goblin King, trying to breathe, run and not laugh all at the same time. What had come over them? Sevlydi was possibly in trouble, and here they were playing 'chase' like a couple of school children. She was for all intents and purpose, currently playing a game with the King of the Goblins.

She ran down every corridor she came across, occasionally glancing behind her for signs of pursuit. When she ascertained no danger, she finally pulled to a standstill, hands on her hips and she peered around the corner for her predator giving chase. The corridors were still empty, and she became a little unnerved as she slowly gained her breath back and her stitch subsided.

She took another look down the still very much empty hall when she suddenly felt two strong hands wrap around her waist. She couldn't help the fright she got, nor the accompanying scream. Jareth spun her around in his arms, and she could see his mirth etched into every line of his face; his eyes crinkled and creased with laughter. She swatted his shoulder with her hand.

"Cheater," she accused him.

"Indeed," he laughed. "We never set down any rules."

Sarah just harrumphed and tried to wriggle free from his grasp.

"Thank you," he said, bringing one hand up to brush her stray hair out of her face. Sarah felt a rising alarm at being held so intimately by him. "You took my mind off my brother and his troubles, and that is not an easy task."

Sarah closed her eyes to his touch and sensed, rather than felt her body shiver.

It seemed to be the cue that recalled Jareth to his senses. He closed his eyes, sighed and extracted his hands from her hair and around her waist.

"We should go and prepare for dinner," he said with reluctance. "And start discussing the plans for the ball. The invites have gone out already."

"That was quick," Sarah had wondered how it was all going to happen in two days.

A/N: Credit to Duran Duran for the lyrics borrowed from Come Undone. And the creators of the Labyrinth for everything else, not mine.

I have 2 more completed chapters ready to go once they've been edited. And one more chapter half-finished. Thank you to anyone who had commented or followed, or even just read :) Chapter 13 is the ball (how poetic is that coincidence with the chapter number?)