CHAPTER TWENTY

"Sarah?"

"Sarah?"

"Are you alright?"

Sarah collapsed on her knees as the images of her first future walking experience surrounded her.

"I have made the wrong choice," she cried out, her eyes unseeing as dark mist lapped at her peripheral. The scent of death stung her nostrils.

"No, my love," Jareth's voice, thick yet faint cut through the haze. "You made the right choice."

Jareth's face appeared in her view, and for a scintillating second, it was his regular face before it morphed into the eyeless cast of his corpse. Sarah screamed as the cadaver-Jareth reached out to her. His hand on her shoulder felt like a scorching flame.

"She is walking," she heard Jareth say, black vapour pouring out of his mouth. "Sarah, listen to me, find your magic and push the images away."

"She is walking, Jar? She obtained her magic before - "

"Some magic. Not all."

"You never said."

"Sarah, focus," Jareth's voice soothed her screaming. "Take the ball of energy inside you and centre your thoughts on me. On me, in the throne room with Sevlydi."

"Dead," Sarah mouthed. "Dead."

"We are not dead," he consoled her. "We are very much alive. Come out of the walk, my love."

Sarah blinked and just like it never happened she was back in the throne room on her hands and knees, panting heavily, and tears streaming down her cheeks.

Her vision was clouded, but she was mindful enough to realise the man crouched in front of her was a whole and hale Goblin King. She glanced up at him, and saw his unmarred, flawless face and for the second time in her history, vomited all over the throne room floor.

"You're making quite a habit of emptying your stomach contents on the floor," Sevlydi tittered. Sarah shivered, despite all the sweat coating her body. She was suddenly intensely cold. Jareth waved a hand to remove the vomit from the flagstones, his boots and her hair.

"When did she vomit on my floor?" Jareth questioned.

"Right after she landed here following your rescue of her from her kidnappers," Sevlydi answered. Sarah pushed up off the ground to sit back on her knees, so she could use her arms to wrap around her frozen body. "Any signs of torture were deception alone. A simple ruse to trick her mind into thinking they were torturing her. Gilo repelled the imaginary pain pretty efficiently with the right anecdotes. She was never at risk of real harm."

"Perceived pain or genuine pain amounts to the same thing, Sevlydi," Jareth said coolly. "At the time, I was excessively focused on other obligations to ask about her recovery."

"She was tired, but that was the extent of her infirmity," Sevylid responded, coldly. "If the situation differed significantly, I would have told you. On the one hand, your kidnappers tortured you. On the other hand, the Pinnsburrs merely duped Sarah into thinking they were torturing her. It doesn't amount to the same thing."

"Not physically, but certainly psychologically," Jareth bared his teeth. "She still felt the pain."

Sarah was only half-listening, but it did strike her as odd that Jareth had never once asked about how she had recovered after her torture. Or perceived torture. After rallying so swiftly due to Gilo's ministrations, she hadn't dwelt on that aspect of that night. She acknowledged her entire collection of thoughts had been with Jareth and his apparent death.

"Sarah, you're cold," Jareth's voice was low, yet soothing, as he finally noticed her shivering on the ground. She felt a soft, warmth envelop her and knew it was his owl blanket that she had shoved at the back of her closet shortly after he had given it to her. "Your magic is trying to manifest, and you were not ready for it. Your defences were down, so it overwhelmed you, but you are safe."

"No," Sarah choked, rocking slightly on her knees. "I made the wrong choice. I saw the future; the future you said would happen if I made the wrong choice. I can't marry you."

"It's binding," Sevlydi reminded her, sternly.

"Where is your cane, and your scars?" Sarah asked urgently. "Have you been tricking me again?"

"No, Sarah," Jareth hushed her. "The flaws were glamoured so my father would not get any satisfaction from seeing me scarred. Same with the cane. A very powerful glamour was needed to trick my father."

"Perhaps you drew too deeply on your magic, that you dipped into your wife's stores too," Sevlydi hypothesised. "Hence, how she became overwhelmed by her own magic substantiating."

"Sevlydi, could you please go and fetch some water and some food?" Jareth said through gritted teeth. Sarah, dazed as she was, could still feel the tension emanating from the two siblings. "Then I am going to take Sarah to her room for a rest. After that, fetch an elf who can officiate."

"You plan to - "

"As soon as possible, Sevlydi," Jareth declared. "Before our father has any chance to rally any action against us."

"I can't marry you," Sarah murmured, as Sevlydi stormed out. "It was the wrong choice."

"Sarah, it was the right choice," he whispered, his voice stirring her hair as he knelt beside her. "I will spend the rest of our lives proving to you it was the right choice."

"I saw the future," Sarah shook her head. "It was the wrong choice."

"You have signed the contract by dissolving the others," he placed his arm around her shoulders. "Words have power, and by declaring your choice, you have united us in marriage. We are married."

"Not yet," she sobbed.

"Yes, Sarah," Jareth countered. "Once you signed the contract, you were my wife. A ceremony makes it legal and binding, but in common understanding, we are now husband and wife. It's why your magic manifested so quickly and nearly knocked you out."

"We are not married," Sarah sniffed.

"Who knew it would be so easy to get you to marry me?" Jareth laughed. "All I needed was my father to bring out the spiteful side of you."

"We are just engaged," Sarah persisted. "Not married."

"If I had agreed to sign Forsythia's contract, we would be courting," Jareth reasoned. "Her contract was a courting contract. Then we would have signed an engagement contract half a year later. Then finally, we would sign a marriage contract, and we would be married. Granted, it usually happens at a ceremony, not while sitting on my lap arguing with my father. You, my precious, did not sign a courting or an engagement agreement, but rather the wedding agreement. So we skipped the social protocols, and went straight into marriage."

"You tricked me," Sarah said, more a question than a statement.

"No, I let you seek counsel," he reminded her. "And time was of the essence. If you dallied too long, I would have ended up married to Forsythia. So we skipped all the social etiquettes and cut to the chase. Tell me honestly, would you want me married to her?"

Sarah honestly did not want that, and she had read the contract. She knew that her choice was irrevocable and permanent. Still, she assumed there'd be a few days grace before the wedding. "No, I wouldn't want you married to Forsythia. It may have amused me at one point, but now -"

"But now?" Jareth prompted.

"It doesn't matter, because as you say, I am married to you now," Sarah pulled the owl feather blanket closer to her. "As long as there wasn't some hidden clause that I have to consummate the marriage."

Jareth grinned. "There is no bedding ceremony."

"Good."

"There are some interesting ceremonies around childbirth, though," Jareth tightened his arm around her shoulders. She was grateful for his added warmth. "But we will go through those when you haven't just collapsed from magic manifestation."

"Childbirth?" Sarah shook her head. She hadn't even considered having children before, and certainly not with Jareth. Of course, he'd want children. He was a King and needed an heir that didn't rely on the Stolen Pearl Trade. "I wasn't planning on having children."

She was unsure if he heard her because Sevlydi returned with a goblin carrying food at his heel. From the aroma, she could tell it was warm fresh bread and soup. Without warning, Jareth shifted and scooped her up. Sarah yelped, but within a few uneven strides, it was over, having placed her upon his throne. He released a crystal that transformed into a table, and the goblin placed her pumpkin soup on her tray. Sarah quickly noticed that his cane was back in his hand and supporting his weight.

"Eat," Jareth ordered. "I truthfully didn't expect the magic to substantiate so quickly. I would have warned you if I had known."

"So those scenes were just my magic?" Sarah muttered as she broke the bread in half. "Not a warning that I made the wrong choice?"

"Sarah," Jareth sighed. "I can't predict the future, but I surmise that it is not a warning, but just flashbacks to what you have already seen."

"You have not made the wrong choice," Sevlydi verified.

"But the war - " Sarah dunked her bread into the hot, creamy soup.

"Inconsequential," Sevlydi shrugged. "Effistod will not get support from the High King for a Civil war."

"Do not fret," Jareth leant in closer. "Today, we celebrate our wedded union, and tomorrow we can strategise for any war."

"The goblin spy," Sarah shook her head. "I still haven't found out who that was, and it is dangerous to have them around if we are at war."

"It was Glib," Jareth informed her. "He is in an oubliette waiting for me to decide what to do with him."

"What?" Sarah nearly upended her soup. "Why didn't I know this?"

"I am used to working by myself," Jareth admitted. "I didn't think to inform you."

"I spent ages trying to find who the culprit was," Sarah exclaimed.

"And your efforts were valuable in apprehending him," Jareth frowned. "It appears by your estimation, I am in the wrong again, and I apologise for any upset I have caused."

"Save it," Sarah returned to her meal. "Just in future remember that I am also your co-monarch and now worse still, I am your wife."

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose. "It will be a learning experience for us both, I am sure."

"Hmm, yes," Sarah said through a mouthful of food. "I have been married before, still am married, technically. I think I can manage."

"Yes, but our marriage will be successful," Jareth leant it, his face mere centimetres away from her. "And you will not find me so easily led astray."

"More's the pity," Sarah shoved more bread in her mouth. She said it, but secretly her heart soared at his promise of fidelity. The idea of him touching other women, or men, made her already roiling insides recommence their turbulent industries.

"How lovely," Sevlydi clapped his hands. "You get your happily ever after, and I am going to celebrate by getting dead drunk, so I do not hear your very noisy copulating later."

Sarah flushed. Jareth grinned. Sevlydi stalked out the room cracking a smile at the married couple. Sarah returned to finishing her meal, and a goblin whisked it away almost before her last bite. Jareth then approached her on the throne.

"I think it is time for you to have a rest," he suggested. "Are you able to walk?"

"Yes," Sarah answered without thought. Pride comes before a fall, as Sarah went to take one shaky step and toppled down the dais. "Fuck."

Jareth tutted, but was helping her back up in an instant. "I should have caught you."

"You have caught me enough," Sarah recalled the rainy night on the castle walls. "I can walk."

"I will carry you," he offered. "It's like being married to two people; you and your pride."

"Well, same for me," Sarah inhaled sharply at his slight against her. "You and your ego."

"We all benefit from my ego, none of us benefit from your pride," he said, a sliver of amusement on his scarred face. The glamour must have faded, as the scar was prominent under his ragged fringe.

"Well, if my pride is such a large issue, don't break your back, trying to carry me," she resisted the temptation to poke her tongue out at him. "Should you be bearing so much weight on your bad leg?"

Jareth reached over and tucked one arm behind her back, and the other under her legs. "If I could move the stars, I am sure I can move you and your pride."

He picked her up, and they transported from the spot into his chambers. The fire was roaring, and the drapes were all closed. Sarah was aware that it was still the middle of the day, but from the room's appearance, it felt like night.

"This is your room now," he said as he sat her down on the edge of his bed. "But because I am so magnanimous, I will allow you to keep your suite. All I ask is that you enter your room via my room, so the staff and goblins do not suspect you of anything unsavoury in the early days of our marriage."

"Unsavoury?" Sarah appreciated still having her own rooms. That was unexpected.

"While it is common for married royal faes to take lovers, it is distasteful to do so as a newlywed," he shrugged.

"Ah," Sarah found all their rules peculiar, but she wasn't planning on taking a lover. What options did she have? Sevlydi, who was gay and in love. The rest of the inhabitants of the castle were goblins, and while there were human employees, she had yet to meet them. Apparently, they mostly worked in the outer-gardens, stables, vineyards and orchards; places she hadn't spent much time. Aside from goblins and the humans she hadn't met, the only other inhabitants capable of speech were her trio of friends. Naturally, that left zero prospects open to her. "Maybe I will get lucky and meet another Terry in the future."

Jareth quirked a brow. "I have run you- a bath."

Sarah raised her brows at the similar cadence of his words to, 'I have brought you a gift.'

"It feels decadent in the middle of the day," Sarah shrugged off the owl blanket.

"You have just opened a channel of magic, and what's more, you are Queen," Jareth scolded. "If you chose to have a bath, naked on the roof during a full moon, while a flock of fairies sang to you, your wish would be my command."

"I would never desire such a thing," Sarah scoffed. "It wouldn't need to be a full moon at all. That is ridiculous."

Jareth's mouth twitched. Sarah decided she liked it when Jareth smiled; a genuine smile at any rate. Those shrewd smirks she could quite willingly skirt. "This crystal will transport you to the bath when you are ready?"

"What?" Sarah cocked her brow. "Not going to suggest that it is your marital duty to undress and bathe me?"

"All you have to do is ask, and I will provide," Jareth said with a shallow bow. Sarah's cheeks filled with crimson. "It would be my pleasure, I assure you."

"The crystal is fine," she mumbled. "Thank you."

The idea of him undressing her and bathing her was enticing, but also excruciatingly embarrassing. As much as the idea appealed, she could not bypass her pride to ask. Even without the heavy sexual connotations, she was more after his company than anything. She didn't feel like being left alone.

"I will wait right here for you if you change your mind," he said, no trace of humour on his visage or in his tone. "Squeeze the crystal when you want to return here."

Sarah took the crystal from his outstretched hand, their fingers brushing. Sparks flew between them.

"That's just my magic recognising your magic," he explained before she asked. "It will dull over time, from my reading on the subject."

Sarah nodded and squeezed the crystal, disappearing from his room. She was deposited naked in his bath. The same bath that she had ended up in before the ball. She rolled her eyes but set about washing her body and hair despite her shaky limbs. When she finished, she eyed the crystal suspiciously. If she squeezed it, would she end up in his bed naked? The water was nearly cold by the time she quit deliberating. Inhaling through her nose, she squeezed it, landing back on his bed, fully dressed in a nightgown. Exhaling through her mouth, she fell back on his bed.

"Perhaps lie back on the pillows, rather than the edge," Jareth's voice suggested. By now, Sarah was too exhausted to move, so she stayed put. Jareth grunted, shifting her up the bed and under the covers. Sarah flicked her eyes open.

"How do I stop dream-walking?" Sarah asked. "I am too tired to be emotionally pulled apart."

"For now, I can offer you a dream," he suggested. "A pleasant one. It will help block your intrinsic walking ability until you have mastered it yourself."

Sarah mumbled her assent, drifting off as Jareth curled his body around hers. "Sleep well, my precious wife."

"Sarah," She was aware of his voice before she was aware of where she was. She spun in the direction of his voice as the scene unfolded around her. It was utterly breathtaking. The sun was setting, throwing purples, oranges and reds across the sky and mirrored in a lake, surrounded by mountains that pierced the clouds, sending rays of sunset streaming to the sky. Where Sarah stood was a beach of rocks and stones in shades of green and grey, contrasting with the warmth of the sinking sun. On the opposite bank, in the shadows of the peaks, a forest grew; its mirror image aflame in the lake's reflection.

"We're Aboveground," Sarah breathed. "I know this place."

"We are not Aboveground," he corrected. "This is just a dreamscape."

"But I know this place," she frowned. A flicker of a memory; a postcard on the fridge, a broken promise, eventually framed and placed on her dresser. "My mom's postcard."

Her mother had sent her a postcard after she had moved out and had travelled overseas. On the back, Linda had promised her a trip to this beautiful lake, and Sarah, the child that she was, naively believed her. It never happened, but here she was standing on the shore of the mountainside lake from her Mother's promise; even if it was just a dream.

"How did you know?" Sarah asked, unable to tear her eyes away from the scenery.

"I can show you your dreams," Jareth reminded her.

"When you say, 'I can show you your dreams,' what you're really saying is, here they are, you can look at them, but you can't touch them," Sarah said with a smirk. "Like if I were to say, 'I can show you my hand', it isn't the same as I can give you my hand. See -"

She waved her hand in front of Jareth's face. "I can show you my hand..."

"Stop waving that thing in my face."

Sarah laughed and waved her hand faster. "Look I'm showing you my hand, do you want it?"

Quick as lightning, Jareth's hand clamped around her wrist, stopping her waving in an instant. He leaned forward and pulled her hand closer to his face at the same time.

He planted a soft kiss on her palm, then with his eyes pinned on her, he licked her hand languidly and tantalisingly, setting all her nerves in her hand aflame.

"I can show you your dreams, sweet Sarah," he said huskily, teeth nipping at the soft flesh of her palm. "But yes, I can give them to you too."

Sarah freed her hand from his lips. "What if my dream was to throw you into that stone-cold lake?"

Jareth looked down his nose at her. They stared at each other, the sounds of the lake lapping against the pebbles as their only ambience. Jareth snorted and turned away. Sarah conceded that she had won and was about to gracefully thank him for bringing her here when he started unbuttoning his jacket.

"What are you doing?"

"It is physically impossible for you to throw me," he shucked his boots off. "But I am capable of compromise. I will throw myself into the frigid water."

"Why are you taking your clothes off?" Sarah had looked away back across the lake.

"I do not want to get them wet," he had taken everything off, save for his trousers.

"This wasn't part of my dream," Sarah squawked.

"That's your compromise, wife," the way he said 'wife' sent thrills through her. She quickly realised she was yet again gawking at Jareth as he undid his shirt. She cleared her throat and walked down the water's edge. Dipping her hand into the water, she ascertained that it was cold but not as freezing as it looked.

"It's a dream," Jareth called from behind her. "So I warmed it up."

"I feel like that is cheating," Sarah kept her eyes on the sun's rays shimmering across the peaks.

"I only warmed it up for you, my love," he said from directly behind her shoulder, reminiscent of their first encounter on the hill above the Labyrinth. "I didn't want you to freeze."

"I am not going in," she stuck her hands petulantly on her hips.

"Oh, yes you are," he said as he walked past her. Sarah squeaked, seeing him strut past stark naked. Sarah chose to push her attention down the length of the beach, rather than watching him wade nakedly into the lake; the reflection of his bum painted on the water's surface. Sarah shoved her hands under her armpits and walked along the water's edge, kicking stones with her slippered toes. "Sarah, join me."

"No," Sarah sat down on a boulder, thankful Jareth was fully submerged under the lake's water.

"I will turn around, and you will take off your clothes and join me," he said, his voice demanding, but blended with humour. Sarah slipped off her socks and slippers, dipping her toes in. The water, sufficiently warm, was tempting her to go for a swim. But skinny dipping with Jareth? He glanced at her, pointy teeth on display, before he turned around. Shit, was she really even considering this? It was only a dream, and there were no other souls around. With a sigh, she slipped out of her nightdress and waded into the water, surprised at just how warm it was. Even the wind that blew lightly was heated.

Jareth still had his back to her, and playfulness was starting to overcome her. She cut through the water as quietly as she could, knowing he would hear her, regardless. There could be no element of surprise when dealing with a fae, but she was willing to give it her best shot. When she drew close enough, she dived under the water and propelled herself towards Jareth. The water was fresh and not salt, so her eyes did not sting, and she was able to keep them open as she directed her strokes towards him. Angling her body, she swooped between his legs, planting her shoulders firmly into the back of his thighs, her hands grabbed his calves, and digging her feet into the pebble lakebed, she shoved up with all her might, tossing Jareth backwards into the lake. She tried not to think of the glimpses she caught of his privates.

When she surfaced, Sarah had expected an angry Jareth to greet her, but he was laughing. Wet, bedraggled, but howling with laughter

"You let me do that, didn't you?" Sarah crossed her arms across her chest.

"Of course," he wrinkled his nose, exposing the tips of his canines. "Your dream was to throw me into the lake, so I granted your wish. There would be no way for you to outmanoeuvre me while you are still mostly mortal."

"Mostly mortal?" Sarah queried, keeping her body hidden in the water's depths.

"Your magic will continue to substantiate over time, and you will gain the skills and characteristics of the fae," he explained, wading closer. "Until then, you have no chance of catching me unawares."

"It was a hollow victory then," Sarah mumbled.

"Not quite how I imagined you between my legs," he winked, closing the gap.

"You're not limping,' Sarah observed.

"Why would I give myself a limp in a dream?" Jareth reached up and pushed her wet hair behind her ear.

"Good point," she pulled her arms across her chest tighter. Jareth's hand stayed upon her cheek. "Why are you standing so close?"

"This is my dream too," his other hand snaked under the water and found her hip.

"And what exactly are you hoping for, Jareth?" Sarah asked, her mouth dry.

"Just the pleasure of your company," he pulled her closer, her elbows digging into his chest. "We could play some more games, or we could dance. Whatever you wish."

"Hold me," Sarah loosened her arms, and wend them around his waist, placing her head on his chest. Jareth obliged, releasing her face and sliding his hand down her back, resting just above the curve of her buttocks. Sarah heard his voice rumble as he started singing. It was a slow, sweet song that Sarah was sure in a soothing language. It distracted her from their naked bodies pressing up against each other, and the evidence of Jareth's arousal poking into her thigh.

"What are you singing?" Sarah asked when he finished.

"It is the Moon, late in the night," his hand brought her chin off his chest, tilting it up to look at him. "It is the Sun. Stay with me forever."

"I have no choice," Sarah's fingers traced patterns on his hip as they swayed. "I am your wife, remember?"

"You left your previous husband," he pointed out.

"Do you blame me?"

"Not at all," he sighed. "I have never been so uncertain in my life, but everything about you confounds me. Including why you are here with me now, naked in the dying of the sun. Will you be with me for every moon, and sun, or will you spread your wings at the first opportunity?"

"You have self-doubt," Sarah quizzed.

"Only in regards to you," he planted a warm kiss on the top of her head. "That's what makes you precious. You moved me in a way that no magic could ever hope to."

"I am here now," Sarah paced her cheek back up against his chest.

"You are."

He sang another song. This one sounded more melancholy. Before she had a chance to ask, he told her, "this is a song for you for the loss of your parents."

He translated the lyrics for her. It was the chorus that stood out for her. "Weeping due to the great loneliness; the tears, sorrowfully. Asleep in the quiet green grave; in a deep peace."

"Thank you," Sarah placed a kiss on the open expanse of his chest. Jareth hummed, in response, tugging her body even tighter to his.

"What the Pinnsburrs did to your family, is unforgivable," he said, letting her go. Sarah instinctively brought her arms up to cover her breasts. "You are starting to wake."

"How do you know?" Sarah watched as Jareth pushed through the water back to the shore. He looked over his shoulder to her.

"You're starting to fade," he gestured to the dulling of the environment around them. Sarah had assumed it was the twilight rising with the setting of the sun. "Come, sit with me upon the shore while we leave this dream behind."

She followed, suddenly less self-conscious of her nudity as she joined him next to water's edge. He supplied a rug to sit on and held his hand out to her. She took his hand, and he guided her to sit between his peaked legs on the mat. He wrapped his arm around her, his hand just under the swell of her breasts, watching the last rays of the sun strive for freedom from the beckoning night. His other hand started a journey on her hip and across the top of her thigh. His mouth startled her as he pressed it against her shoulder.

"By the Gods, Sarah," he rasped. "You are the most beautiful creature."

"If I am waking up, this might not be such a good idea," Sarah let out a moan as he trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin of her neck and shoulders.

"You taste as good as you smell, Precious," his fingers dug into her ribs with one hand, and his other started exploring the soft skin of her inner thigh. Sarah was alive with arousal, and her nerves were firing on all cylinders just from his touch. A thrill ran through her as she felt his cock twitch against her spine. That she brought such a man to this level of desire, empowered her.

"You are very talented," Sarah hissed as Jareth's teeth slid across her tender flesh. "You weren't wrong about people falling at your feet, and never having to court anyone. I can see why you are a self-professed seducer."

Jareth instantly pulled back. "Is that what you think this is?"

"Hmmm?" Sarah was too lost in the desire coursing through her body to notice Jareth's tone and tension.

"Do you still think that I am only interested in your seduction and conquest?"

"Am I supposed to think differently?" Sarah shivered. The warmth of the dream slipped away, replaced by a chill breeze, and her breath was now visible in the crisp air.

"Yes," his hands curled into fists. "What I have done out of boredom, privilege and sheer loneliness in the past, is in the past. Sarah, you value monogamy, and I value you. So I am yours, and yours alone."

Sarah's hands, which up until now had been lying protectively in her lap, reached out, touching his thighs. Jareth stiffened, and his muscles in his legs twitched as she stroked him. His hands rested on top of her hands, entwining his fingers with hers.

"Eternity is a long time," Sarah could barely see anything now. The sound of the waves lapping at the pebbles still remained audible, but night swallowed the scene, deepened by the fade of her growing consciousness. "Mark couldn't even last a few years before he cheated on me."

"I am not Mark," he growled, nipping at her ear lobe. "And he is a fool. How could he have possibly found someone more beautiful than you?"

"Because relationships are not all about beauty," Sarah's vision was starting to get fuzzy. Jareth had resumed kissing along her shoulders and neck, but they felt less real and more dreamlike in the paling light. "They take work, commitment, respect - "

"I was talking about everything you are," his tongue flitted out to taste her skin, sparks of pleasure raced down her spine. "Not just the beauty that is visible, though you are a delectable creature."

"Jareth?"

"Mmm?"

"Why does it offend you when I mention your free and easy - 'bonk anything' behaviour when it is in your kind's nature?" Sarah asked. "It feels like me getting insulted if you remind me of the inevitability of mortal ageing."

"Because - my darling wife - I may have been free and easy," he paused, to squeeze her fingers and plant a kiss on her hairline at the nape of her neck. "I may have 'bonked' anything, but I have never been in a relationship as you call it. So while committed to 'bonking' someone, I wasn't simultaneously bonking someone else."

"What about the druid?" Sarah leaned her head back against his chest.

"It wasn't long enough to be considered a relationship," he answered, resting his chin on her head. "You're waking now. Maybe when you have your magic in full, I can take you back here, and we can enjoy this for real."

"That would be nice," Sarah felt sleepy, and she was getting sleepier still until she was fast asleep against his chest.

Sarah was awake again in her reality, curled into the foetal position with Jareth wrapped around her. Both clothed, unlike their shared dream. She stretched out, timidly exploring each muscle as she worked out if she was still weak. Surprisingly, she felt much better. Stronger, pain-free, and raring to go. She rolled over as much as she could in the cage of his arms. He was wide awake and watching her through slitted eyes.

"How do you feel?" he was gentle; concerned.

"Much better," she grinned sheepishly. "Who knew skinny dipping in another plane of existence was so healing?"

"Who knew?" he cuddled up closer. "I could get quite used to waking up with my arms around my wife."

"Teach me how to block my subconscious from sending me walking," she stipulated. "I am starting to think you are willingly not teaching me so you can keep me in your bed."

"Would I do such a dastardly thing?" his thumb moved over her cheek.

"I am not even going to dignify that with a response," Sarah yawned and stretched.

"I have had food sent up," he waved towards the table and chairs by the fireplace. "Eat, and then we will go and make our marriage official."

"That still confuses me," she unfurled herself from him and the bedsheets.

"If someone dies, they are dead but do you not still need to have a death certificate to make it official in your world?"

"Yeah," Sarah agreed, supposing he was right.

"The ceremony is just the formal bit," he concluded.

"The last time I got married, we had two hundred guests, most of whom I never spoke to again," Sarah mused as she sat down in front of the fire to eat. "Everything was so meticulous, thanks to the help of my mother-in-law. Even Karen wasn't so pedantic about wedding planning. It was a complete nightmare. I just wanted to marry the man I loved with a few friends and family, not great aunt Agatha who I have never met, and never will again. It was a fucking fairy tale wedding. Fourteen-year-old me would have loved it. The Sarah of my twenties wished that it wasn't such a circus. I should have been more firm about what I wanted, instead of letting Mark's mother run rough-shod over me."

"Well, you finally get what you wished for," Jareth grinned as he buttered some bread. "A small wedding, a handful of friends and family, and no Great Aunt Agatha. And at least you're marrying someone more attractive and intelligent than Mark."

Sarah snorted into her teacup, especially at the disdainful way he said Mark's name. "Jealous of Mark, are we?"

"I have no reason to be jealous," Jareth corrected. "Unless your admission that you love him when he is a philandering ignoramus, is reason enough for me to be jealous."

Sarah's teacup stalled on its journey towards her mouth. It was one thing, for Jareth to admit he loves her, it was quite another to admit she loved him. Yes, she was marrying him, but it was for the good of her kingdom. Wasn't it?

"He is a philandering ignoramus," Sarah conceded at last. "And I thought I loved him. I won't be making that mistake again, in a hurry."

A scowl flitted across Jareth's features. "So you're content to let that parasite of a husband devour all the love from you? My, my, I supposed you to be a winner, Sarah, not someone resigned to failure."

"I left him," Sarah returned his scowl; his words jarring. "I won in the end."

"Did you?" scorn carved Jareth's face. "You won't open yourself up to the prospect of love. It sounds like he won."

"What would you know about it?" Sarah lashed out. "You have admitted to never being in a relationship, so you have never had your heart torn asunder, and you do not know what it is like to have the person you love, constantly breaking your trust."

Jareth didn't say anything immediately. His blue eyes had narrowed and were now flinty and cold. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead, he stood up and walked towards his door.

"I expect you in the throne room at sundown," he said over his shoulder. "I suggest you wear the gown that is on your bed. Don't be late."

And with that, he left her stewing in his chambers.

Jareth was angry. Angry at Sarah, but mostly he was furious at himself. On his wedding day, he chose to prod the sleeping dragon of unrequited love. He wasn't fool enough to think anger would tempt her to throw a declaration at him, but she was driving him crazy. She had accepted his marriage contract. They were married, were sleeping side by side, and they had even kissed, but she was still holding him at arm's length. He was blindsided by her rush to accept the marriage contract, and their steady and blossoming friendship, to remember that while he had declared his love for her, she did not return those feelings. Mark would never have died for her, of this much he was sure. Mark wouldn't have gone to the lengths he had to deceive her, either. Not that Sarah would ever see that as a point in his favour.

He may not have had his heart crushed because he had never given his heart freely before. Only Sarah had his heart in safekeeping, though she seemed determined to drive a chisel in and shatter it piece by piece. He still had encountered pain at her expense: her first refusal of him, the thirteen-year gap when he couldn't even see, talk to or go to her, the fact she got married to someone else, the two years she avoided him when they lived in the same kingdom, her hatred of him when they reacquainted, preferring Terry over him, and now her refusal to give him any hope that she could love him.

Jareth acknowledged he could be held responsible for some of those items. He certainly had been the one that brought Terry into her life. But she didn't have to be so pig-headed. He loved her, damn it.

"What has she done now?" Sevlydi asked as he saw Jareth pacing up and down the corridor outside the library.

"Sev, I envy you," Jareth turned to his brother. "You and Rica both love each other and admit it freely."

"But we can not see each other or be together unless I break his heart and marry someone else," Sevlydi reminded him.

"She is just so stubborn, Sev," he growled. "We can be together and legally, but Sarah still denies that she will ever feel anything more than friendship for me."

"Perhaps she needs time," Sevlydi considered. "She has, at least, married you."

"Under duress," Jareth placed his head in his hands. "I don't think there is anything I can do to make her love me."

"You have her in your power now," Sevlydi slurred. Was he drunk? Jareth looked closer at his brother, seeing red-rimmed eyes and a slight stagger with his walk. "You won."

"It feels like a hollow victory," Jareth looked again at his brother. "Are you drunk?"

"I am just celebrating my brother's nuptials," Sevlydi grinned. "As he gets married and I have to face court for my forbidden love."

"Sev-"

"No, don't," Sevlydi growled. "You do not get to lecture me on how I handle my heartbreak. You haven't experienced the agony."

Since when did Sevlydi concur with Sarah? Did no-one take his plight to win Sarah seriously but him?

"You wrote a song about your heartache for a girl who you didn't truly love, not really," Sevlydi continued lecturing. "She was a means to an end; someone you could have power over- an impressionable mortal. And you didn't have to work to woo her, because it was pre-destined. You didn't have to stray from your given narrative that everything you want falls at your fucking feet. Well, forgive us mere lesser beings who put the effort in, and expect effort back within a relationship."

"I sacrificed my life for her," Jareth hissed.

"Yes, so you keep reminding us," Sevlydi hissed back. "So you played the hero for once in your life and not the villain - but don't you think Sarah deserves more than to be loved by someone she is merely grateful to?"

Jareth looked into the visage of his brother, seeing his sincerity, despite the lack of sobriety. He had made some apologies to Sarah but never to his brother. He took a deep breath in. "Sevlydi, I am sorry that I have been preoccupied with my own issues and failed to help you with your upcoming trial."

"Father sent word to the High Court," Sevlydi took a swig from a bottle that materialised in his hand. "They have found Rica, and have him in custody. You worry that you may have to work to get Sarah to love you. I fret that my father will execute my lover. I will drink to your health, brother, but sod your apology."

Sevlydi sauntered off, swigging at the bottle. Jareth fell to his knees in the hallway as his reality came crashing around his ears. Sarah was safe and officially his wife. His brother was about to lose his heart. His priorities had to change for now. He had an eternity to woo his wife and make her forget the hurts Mark had inflicted, but he couldn't reclaim Rica from death.

As irritated as Sarah was with Jareth, she did find her way to the throne room in time, wearing the gown he had set aside for her. If you could call it a dress - it was a strappy silver and black garment that scarcely left anything to the imagination.

Sarah's heels clicked across the stone of the deserted throne room. Maybe, Jareth had decided he didn't want to marry her after all. Her stomach plunged into a whirlpool at the thought. For some inexplicable reason, the idea of not being his wife seemed offensive to her insides. Shoving that abhorrent thought aside, she sidled up to the throne, perching on the edge of the seat.

The minutes ticked by as she waited for him, or someone. Not even a stray goblin was in sight. She sighed. Perhaps she should summon someone to ask. She stood up and was greeted by Jareth striding in, his face reminiscent of the Jareth from the collapsing Escher Room in their final confrontation.

"You're late," Sarah crowed, taking the moral high ground.

"I am," he tapped his cane on the flagstones, impatiently. "Sevlydi received a summons to court, and he is in a bit of a state."

"Oh," Sarah lowered her head in remorse. "We can always postpone - "

"No," Jareth hobbled gracefully towards her. "You shan't get out of this that easily."

"I wasn't implying -" Sarah shook her head to dispel any traitorous words that she was about to utter. "I don't know what I am saying or doing, nor what the protocol for this wedding is-"

"The elf will tell you what to say, and then you say it," he shrugged. "I opted for a mundane ceremony, not a courtly ceremony in front of the entire council. It is not like this marriage is sanctioned by them anyway, so there is no protocol."

Sarah made an assenting noise with her tongue.

"You look remarkable by the way," Jareth shifted closer to her. "I couldn't be prouder to call someone my wife."

Sarah took in his matching silver attire. Skin-tight black trousers with silver thread and twisting patterns running down the length of his legs. High heeled boots; black with silver swirls reaching down from the shaft of the boot to the vamp. His shirt was black, again with silver detailing. His vest silver, his hair tied up with silver, his markings black with silver, his gloves silver and his medallion -

"You're wearing your medallion," Sarah said out loud.

"The goblins finally finished it," his silver gloved hand reached up and touched his pendant, the mirror image of hers. "Just in time for our wedding night."

Sarah blanched.

"I meant because it is night time," Jareth corrected his misstep. "The innuendo was not intended, but however, it could be."

"Shall we go and get this over with?" Sarah gestured towards the door.

"Before we do," Jareth held out his hand to her. "I just want to reassure you that, despite my declaration of my feelings towards you, there is no pressure for you to feel the same."

Jareth frowned as he finished, belying the possible battle against his nature that he was waging.

"Let us just go and make this official," Sarah gestured between the two of them. "Let's go claim my death certificate."

Jareth looked askew at her before he recollected that it was his analogy she was throwing back at him. She didn't mean it to sound so hurtful, but she could see in his eyes that it had hit the mark. When had she got so good at reading his usually cold and indifferent expressions? When had she got so good at being cruel?

"Cruel, Precious," he muttered as he followed her out the Throne room. "But you do not know where you are going, so perhaps you could just stay with me and talk before I guide you to the wedding site."

"What do you want to say?"

"I just want to acknowledge that your reasons for marrying me are noble and just," Jareth licked his lips with the tip of his tongue as he seemed to struggle with what to say next. "The reasons I want to marry you do not match up with yours, and I just want you to know there is no pressure to make it so. And I appreciate the sacrifices you are making to be the Goblin Queen, but also the Queen Matrimonial."

"I am not making any sacrifices," Sarah put her hands on her hips in defiance of his words. "I had a marriage for love, that didn't work out. I sacrificed a lot in that marriage. I vowed I'd never get married again, but my motivation is different this time around. Nothing will change between you and me just because I am wedded to you. It's just a piece of paper. I didn't lose anything I hadn't already lost before I married you."

Publicly, Sarah knew, they would have to put on a front. She felt that was the only thing that would change, aside from her magic and the security of her position. Her motivations for this wedding were her own and not that of Jareth's. No-one was forcing her to be married, and she went into it with open eyes, but a closed heart. They would continue as they were; married in name alone.

Jareth nodded. "Perhaps we should have come up with the parameters of what our marriage entailed before this point."

"What do you mean?"

"I wanted a wife," his eyes closed. "Not just in name."

"Well, you got me," Sarah indicated her person. "And we are married just in name. That's the deal we agreed to."

"I know," he bared his teeth. It wasn't a threatening baring of his fangs, but more defensive than anything. "But I just hope that one day you would get more out of our unity than just the benefits to the Kingdom."

"Are you suggesting that you care about my happiness upon entering a marriage with you?"

"Of course," he frowned. "I am selfish - "

"And spoilt," Sarah added.

"And spoilt," he levelled a pointed look at her. "And selfishly, I want you to be happy."

"That's the opposite of selfish," Sarah laughed. "Wanting someone else's happiness is not selfish."

"It is when you have entangled your happiness in mine," he stated. "It is when the only one I want to make you happy is me, and me alone."

"Yeah, I guess that counts as selfish," Sarah rolled her eyes.

"My happiness suffers when you are unhappy," Jareth continued. "So selfishly I do not want you feeling afflicted with sorrow, because I do not want those associated feelings."

"I get it," Sarah whined. "Now, can we go?"

Jareth seemed to forget his current mood, placing both hands behind his back, and with a smug grin, turned to her and said, "quite impatient to get married to me, aren't you?"

"We are already married."

"Just so," he grinned. "So why the hurry?"

"It's inevitable so let's just get it over with," she groaned, resisting the urge to stomp her feet in impatience.

"You just do not want to talk about your feelings," Jareth narrowed his eyes at her. "It makes you feel uncomfortable."

"What happened to 'there is no pressure'?" Sarah asked, her hands back firmly on her hips. Jareth was extra mercurial today.

Jareth tilted his head to the side. "I said that, didn't I?"

"Yeah, and what's said is said," Sarah reminded him, mocking his deep baritone.

Jareth's leer was almost unbearable. "I would very much like to get married to you now."

"Good, let's go," Sarah ushered him towards the door.

"Take my arm, my lovely wife," he held out his free arm to her. "We are not getting married in the castle."

They were getting married in a moonlit glade. The sun had set, and they were nowhere that Sarah recognised.

"We're not in Kansas now, Toto," Sarah quoted The Wizard of Oz in a whisper.

"Who is Toto?" Jareth asked as he held Sarah's hand firmly in the crook of his elbow.

"A dog," Sarah muttered. "From a film."

Floating candles illuminated the glade, revealing a range of creatures gathered in the trees. Not far off, Sarah could hear a cascading waterfall against the backdrop of chirping crickets. Despite moving into nighttime, the air was warm and pleasantly fragranced reminiscent of hot summer evenings where her father would be mowing the lawn, and her mother would be singing in the kitchen, while she curled up on the swing-seat reading a book. Merlin would be curled at her feet, or chasing the lawnmower.

Waves of nostalgia hit her as she took in the scene. A stone plinth stood dead centre in front of a rocky outcrop. Inset into this stone wall was a cave entrance, lit dimly by torches heading down a slope, and around a bend. Behind the plinth stood an elf, holding a book clasped casually in both hands.

"Does it suit, My Lady?" came the yappy, familiar voice of Sir Didymus. The fox terrier stood at the threshold of the glade, in black and silver finery. His dog Ambrosius sat quietly, panting, behind him.

"It is beautiful," Sarah fought the urge to weep as her sentimentality ate away at her. "Thank you, Sir Didymus."

"My Lady," he gave a low bow, sweeping his hat off his head in respect. Sarah swallowed the lump forming in her throat. It was all ridiculous. She was already married to him. There was no need to romanticise the ceremony. Jareth urged her down the path between people, trees and goblins to the plinth.

Sarah recognised Hoggle and Ludo instantly and was surprised that Jareth had bothered to invite them. Likewise, the Spriggets were there, including the youngest, Peggy, who waved wildly at her. Sevlydi lifted his goblet as she glanced his way, already quite sloshed by the looks of things. There was a temptation to join him. None of Jareth's other family members was present, which came as no surprise. But what did come as a surprise was Forsythia.

Sarah's overactive imagination flew to the possibility that she was there as a further plot of the Goblin King. Win her over again, but then "surprise"; suddenly he was married to Forsythia to punish her. She took a deep, steadying breath. It wouldn't pay to become paranoid in front of an audience.

"What is your ex-fiance doing here?" Sarah hissed through the corner of her mouth. She watched Jareth turn lackadaisically in the direction of the blonde female. Forsythia remained neutral and indifferent.

"I invited her," he said simply. Sarah felt her stomach drop out.

"Why?"

"Because she should see how a real Queen compels a King to marry her," he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Sarah released the breath she didn't know she was holding. By this stage, they had arrived at the plinth. The elf nodded to them both.

"Briyash," Jareth greeted the elf. "This is my wife, Sarah."

Sarah's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. So this was the infamous Briyash; the keeper of pearls and the elf who instigated this entire thing. She had so many questions, like "why?" She chose to nod at him instead.

"Ah," Briyash said as he looked into her face. "You are the Pearl Bride."

Sarah made a non-committal noise at the back of her throat.

"She is," Jareth smiled down on her. "And we request that you witness our nuptials."

"Granted," he said without ceremony. "Have you got the pearl?"

Sarah reached up and retrieved the pearl from her elaborate hairstyle. She had no pockets, and it seemed best to keep it on her person. Briyash beamed as he cast his eyes over the inoffensive gem in her palm.

"Would you both place it between your fingertips?" Briyash asked, opening the book he held. Sarah and Jareth simultaneously held the pearl, between their index fingers, their thumbs gently touching each other. He started reading from the book in a language she assumed was Elfish. He droned on as the pearl glowed between them.

He then asked that Jareth repeat after him, "I acknowledge Sarah Hi'Live as my wife, mate and ally."

"I acknowledge Sarah Hi'Live as my wife, mate and ally," Jareth repeated, turning to Sarah with a smile. Sarah levelled a frosty smile in return. She couldn't shake the feeling Jareth's act of inviting Forsythia was a cruel way to gloat and punish the fae. Her parents and relatives had manipulated for years to marry Jareth. Sarah felt pity for her, notwithstanding Forsythia's manner towards her.

Briyash read out the words Sarah had to say, "I acknowledge Jareth De Škriatok as my husband, mate and ally."

Sarah flatly intoned her line. It was so much easier affirming her marriage when she didn't have to declare it out loud. Cheers went up through the glade, so Sarah assumed it was over. Maybe now she could join Sevlydi in his drinking.

"I now invite you to walk together through the Moonstone Cave," Briyash gestured to the cave opening behind her as the pearl stopped glowing. Jareth balanced the pearl on his fingers, so Sarah reclaimed her hand. He spun it across his fingertips, weaving in and out of each digit before he placed it in his pocket. Of course, he'd have convenient pockets, while she wore something resembling a second skin more than actual clothing.

"Wait," Sarah was more than a little puzzled. "What?"

"It is the custom for upper echelon fae and elves, that request the Bridal Pearl to likewise pick a Moonstone," Briyash smiled, before adding, "It is mostly symbolic."

"Symbolic of what exactly?" Sarah queried.

"Love," he answered simply. "The bridal pearl denotes who you marry; the moonstone symbolises who you love."

Sarah looked longingly towards Sevlydi's alcohol. Jareth cleared his throat, "we should go."

"Is there really any point?" Sarah hissed.

"Of course not," Briyash chirped up, wagging his grey beard, so it swept the pine needles at his feet. "You already know who you love, so as I said, it is merely symbolic."

Sarah's cheeks were a darker hue in an instant. She mumbled in defeat, "let's go then."

Jareth held his hand out for her. They followed the elf down the pine needle laden path to the cave, Jareth pausing to wave to his subjects. The cavern was illuminated well with the torches, but the trail was rocky and uneven. Thankfully, every time she tripped, Jareth caught her in his arm, despite his reliance on his cane.

"My love, you should watch your feet," he said pleasantly.

"You should watch your mouth," Sarah muttered as she stumbled yet again.

"Are you troubled by the discovery that your destiny is to love me?" Jareth whispered a frisson ran through her at his warm breath scuttering across her skin. Traitorous body.

"I just think all these prophecies take away free will and self-determination," Sarah justified her reluctance to be here. Knowing it was mostly not wanting to confront her feelings, or discover that perhaps she wasn't destined to love her husband. She didn't know which was worse.

"It doesn't, though," Jareth explicated. "To say it predicts love is a bit simplistic. But it's more accurate to say a moonstone guides your passions and energies towards the one you love. I was a sceptical as you once but I have done some reading."

"Does the stone shout out the name of your future love, or how does it work?"

"I believe the stones just match one another in shape and hue," Jareth guided Sarah from tripping yet again. She thanked him with a nod. "It is unlikely bridal pearls would pair a couple that had two different moonstones."

"Yet, here we are," Sarah pointed out. "You seem confident, but I bet there will be no matching moonstones tonight."

"I wager a kiss," he grinned, the flickering torch light glinting off his sharp canines. "I wager that we will match."

"Deal," Sarah struck her hand out to shake his. "I wager we will not match, and we will not kiss if I am right."

Sarah could feel the heat of his hand even through his gloves as they shook on it. "Would you like a peppermint to freshen your breath for when you owe me a kiss?"

Sarah shoved his shoulder with her free hand. "How did the bridal pearl match you up to me anyway?"

"I didn't know how it would reveal my future wife," Jareth said. "It is different for everyone. But when we had our first dance, there were strings of pearls all through the ballroom, that weren't normally there. And the pearls you wore were the distinct shade as our pearl."

"So if you had never tried to slow me down with that fucking peach, you would have never known it was me," Sarah sighed.

"The magic would have shown him in another way," Lord Briyash who had remained silent up until this point, chimed in. "It always finds a way."

"The pearl was a helpful tool, but I didn't need it to tell me who to marry nor love," he whispered so only she could hear.

"So you shouldn't need a moonstone either," Sarah pointed out as they came to a halt in front of a font.

"I don't," he declared. "But you do."

Briyash cleared his throat and gestured to the font. "Who wishes to go first?"

"I will," Jareth said. He dipped his hand into the font and came up with a teardrop-shaped purple moonstone. He showed it to Sarah and then gestured to the font for her to take her turn. Sarah sighed, again, and stepped up to the font. Inside there was a mist resembling water swirling around its depths. She stuck her hand in and felt something land in her hand. Instantly she closed her fist and pulled it out. Jareth and Briyash watched her expectantly.

Sarah dropped her eyes to her closed fist, about to open it when a whinny distracted them all. Standing where they had just come from was the most stunning cream coloured unicorn. Its mane and tail were iridescent shades of purple and green, and its horn was abalone shell coloured. The presence of such a magnificent creature stunned them all to silence. Even Briyash, who looked like he was old enough to contain all the wisdom of Jareth's library, was flabbergasted.

"Virescent and amethyst unicorn," Briyash breathed.

"I am not a virgin," Sarah didn't realise she had said it out loud. Jareth levelled a look of disbelief at her outburst.

"You do not need to be a maiden to see her," Jareth said sharply. "Just incredibly lucky."

"Is she -"

"I am the one who bequeathed Jareth, Lord of the Labyrinth and King of the Goblins, and Sarah, Hi'Live of the Labyrinth and Queen of the Goblins a single Tear of Pearl," came a voice in her head as she stared at the unicorn.

"Jareth, did you hear-"

'Yes, my love," Jareth moved to her side. She kept the moonstone fisted in her hand.

"Give her back the pearl," Sarah whispered in his ear.

"You wish to return my gift?" the unicorn asked, soundlessly.

"It was stolen from you-"

"The fae stole most of them," the unicorn interrupted. "This one was given by me."

"We are married now," Sarah said confidently. "The gift has served its purpose."

"And if you should ever lose each other again, you shall now have your moonstones to find one another," the unicorn declared. Sarah could feel the shape of the moonstone in her palm and suspected the creature was right. Her stomach plummeted - in despair or joy, she could not tell. The unicorn continued, "I accept your kindness, Hi'Live."

Jareth reached into his pocket and gave Sarah the pearl. She carefully took it in her hand, still hiding the moonstone in the other and approached the unicorn. On the palm of her hand, she offered the pearl to the magical creature.

"Thank you, Hi'Live," the unicorn's melodious voice said in her mind. The pearl evaporated from her hand, before she spoke again, "You give freely, and without agenda."

Turning to Jareth, the unicorn continued to talk in her mind. "Jareth de Škriatok, Hi'Live is worthy. But you were wrong that her epithet meant Champion. It meant The Curse Breaker."

A/N: Acknowledgements: The first song Jareth sings to Sarah is by Enya ~Deireadh an Tuath. It is a translation from Irish Gaelic into English. The second one about death is also by Enya ~ Smaointe, also translated from Irish Gaelic into English. There are lots of Enya songs that give off Labyrinth vibes. One is even called 'Less than a Pearl.'

"Less than a pearl in the sea of stars,
We are a lost island in the shadows."

Jareth's last name is simply goblin in Slovak.

Thank you to my readers, and those that have shared my story on WIPT in LFFL. That's huge and I am always honoured.