For those of you who know me, some of the reactions Sarah has to her husband will be amusing. I hope you enjoy this new chapter…and thank Lupo Pazzesco for making me put it up so quickly.

As always, the disclaimer stands.

He stared broodingly out into the pouring rain. Absently, he realized that it wasn't supposed to rain in the Underground…but he didn't really care to discover the change in weather. He could see his face mirrored in the glass, and knew that he should be asleep. Instead of sleep, his mind kept conjuring the vision of her hair floating on the surface of the pond, and her colorless face staring toward the sun.

"Sire?" His aid called quietly from the outer chamber.

"Yes?" He didn't look away from the rain, but managed to sound politely interested.

"She's awake, and asking for you."

Jareth turned sharply, his face a mask of mixed pain, grief, and anger. "You may go now, I will go to her presently." He turned back to the window long enough to compose himself, then walked swiftly from the room, cloak flying behind him.

Sarah raised her head from the bedcovers as he walked into the room. "No," she corrected herself, "he is stalking. Fully as quiet and dangerous as a hunting cat." She was minutely relieved to find that, though his face had the expected anger, it wasn't directed toward the one lying on the bed. Instead, it seemed directed mostly inward…as if he was fighting a battle with himself, or holding something in that he should be letting go. She resolved to corner him later, and call out the storm.

Jareth's eyes lit on the bed, and didn't waver. He reached out a tentative hand and brushed a strand of dark hair from a very pale forehead.

"Daddy?" She whispered. She coughed, and Jareth's face tightened. Sarah thought it looked almost…breakable.

He gingerly sat on the edge of her bed and brushed light fingertips across her face. "I am here, Kiana." Suddenly, he grinned, amused at something. "You have not called me that since you were very small."

Smiling somewhat painfully, she reached out and took his hand. "I know." Her face clouded for a moment, then she looked up into her father's mismatched, oh-so-concerned eyes and started to cry. "Daddy, I'm sorry. It's all my fault."

A single tear fell from a rigidly controlled face, and he gently raised her so he was holding her face against his chest. "No, it is not. It is the fault of whoever took you."

Looking up, she hitched a breath. "But it is! I was so angry at you two, and I went with him when he came for me." Her face went whiter than it already was. "Daddy, he…he…" She broke down, and fury filled Jareth as he understood what she was trying to tell him. "And then he tried to kill me." She spoke very softly, as if she couldn't believe it.

For the first time since Jareth had walked into the room, Sarah spoke. "Honey, who? Who was it?"

As Jareth turned his head to watch his wife speak, he could see the lines of strain around her eyes, and the evidence that she was barely holding onto her composure. He shot her a look that promised a long conversation when they were through here.

Kiana's eyes widened a trifle and her grip on Jareth tightened. She looked from her mother to her father and whispered, "It was Lord Dakarai." She started to cry again. "I thought you had sent him, Daddy, and I was ready to come back, so I followed him."

Voice deceptively gentle, Jareth peered into her eyes and asked "Kiana, why did you allow him to block your magic?"

Frowning, Kiana spoke without thinking. "He didn't."

Eyebrow raised in classic Jareth expression, he said. "He did. Why do you think you were so near death before I came for you? Had your magic been intact, I would have known the moment you came into danger."

"Oh Daddy, I didn't know."

She furrowed her eyebrows, and he knew she was thinking awfully hard about something. He touched the place the wrinkles formed and smiled at her. "You'll give yourself wrinkles."

She grinned briefly, then got serious again. "Daddy, he offered me his cloak because it was really cold on top of the wall." She looked disturbed. "But I should have known if it had a spell on it, you taught me." She looked pleadingly into his eyes. "You have to believe me, it didn't feel like anything other than a piece of cloth!"

He shushed her, pulling her back against his chest and petting her hair. After a time, he gently laid her back on the bed. "You should rest. This room is shielded so that only your mother's or my magic may go through." He kissed her forehead. "Sleep now, Kiana."

Slipping into sleep, Kiana whispered, "Daddy, are you gonna take care of the bad man for me?"

Calm façade crumbling, voice choked with unshed tears and fiercer than Sarah'd ever heard it, he said, "Yes, Kiana, I will take care of the bad man."

She mumbled something that sounded like a happy "thank you" and fell asleep.

"Jareth!" Sarah called from a few steps behind him. "We need to talk."

Spinning on his heels to face her, he had intended to snap some biting comment. But looking at her drawn face and the concerned expression on her face, he just couldn't.

Instead, he walked toward her, eyes burning, gathered her into his arms, and teleported to their bedchamber.

He kissed her fiercely, all the pain, grief, and anger just bubbling out of him. His hands ran up her body, briefly resting on her hips, then the swell of her breasts before continuing up to tangle in her hair, pulling her face even closer to his. Breaking the kiss, he buried his face in her neck. "We can speak later." His tone said he would brook no argument. Right this moment he needed to immerse himself in every part of her far more than he needed to talk.

Later, they lay in bed and talked.

"Jareth," Sarah said quietly, hesitantly. "It wasn't your fault."

For a moment, it seemed he would be furious, but then his face showed what she'd felt in his love-making and he finally let go of the tears that he'd been hiding for the better part of a week.

"Sarah, he…" He couldn't bring himself to speak the word. "did what he did to her, and I couldn't even sense it, let alone save her!" A roar of rage-filled pain rocked the castle as he gave vent to it. "I couldn't protect my own daughter within MY kingdom."

Sarah held him close and spoke the words she knew he needed to hear. "No, you couldn't."

Shocked eyes met hers, and she continued. "One of your trusted advisors hurt her very badly, and if you'd been paying attention, it would not have happened." Her voice was iron.

"But she was blocked. I could find nothing that would find her again. I am the one that brought her back so she could be healed." His voice was plaintive, the only time she'd ever heard anything like it.

Sighing, she kissed him softly and rested her forehead against the upper swell of his chest. "I know that, Jareth. You would not see it though, until I accused you of what you were already beating yourself up for."

She shifted so that he was cradling her in his arms. "Now what are you going to do about Lord Dakarai?"

She felt his body stiffen at the mention of the name, and his voice when he spoke was once again filled with fury. This time though, it was cold and somehow pleased. "We will see how he likes being violated and stripped of his magic. Then perhaps his punishment will begin."

Sarah shivered at the amount of implied violence, but allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. Now they knew who had done this, and she knew without a doubt that Jareth would make him regret every second of pleasure he'd taken from their daughter's unwilling flesh, and then would make him regret his very existence.