Author's note: I don't own the Labyrinth or any of its wonderful inhabitants. Please review!
Jareth found himself experiencing the profoundest déjà vu. Could it have been only thirteen hours ago that he had watched Sarah acting out the part of heroine of the Labyrinth? And now here he was watching Sarah, the heroine of his Labyrinth. It had been too soon, he knew that. She was but fifteen, still a girl. How could she understand what it was he had offered; what she had refused? What did a young girl know of love?
As he watched her, he saw her look around her room, taking stock of her possessions, her dreams. Confusion knit her brows. No, he thought; don't let her doubt these past thirteen hours. Don't let her doubt the Labyrinth. Don't let her doubt me. Jareth did the first thing he could think of to help her: he conjured her friends. He saw Sarah face her friends, willing her to remember the right words – words that would keep her tied to the Labyrinth. Not bound by magic or anything else – simply bound by friendship. If she wouldn't stay with him, at least she would remember him, in some form or another. Even if she remembered him only as a cruel tyrant, a villain, that was better than being forgotten. Sighing, Jareth watched Sarah speak to the mirror. Sometimes the simplest words were the right ones. Her friends surrounded her instantly. Jareth watched for a few minutes, but the pain at watching her happiness, her light, and her love, from which he must ever be barred, hurt too much.
Spreading his wings, Jareth soared from the window sill, letting the wind stop his fall and lift him up. Toward the Labyrinth, and his castle nestled in the middle, Jareth directed his flight. In his owl form, Jareth retained his human thoughts and emotions, but his emotional pain was lessened to some extent. Her rejection had ripped apart his soul, but he didn't feel it as strongly as a wild animal. Before he knew it, he soared in through the window of his throne room. The room was strangely devoid of Goblins, but then Jareth remembered the battle earlier in the day – his goblins would be tending their wounds or wreaking havoc on the town.
Jareth faced his throne, and then swept his magnificent eyes around the room. The castle was still intact. Of course it was. What Jareth and Sarah had seen was nothing more than the breaking of Jareth's heart, not his castle. And with that realization came the pain that he had held at bay. She had rejected him. She didn't want him. He saw her, her eyes locked on his, their green, innocent depths reflecting his love, throwing it back at him just as her words had done. "You have no power over me." The words echoed in his ears, shaking him to the core.
Jareth wanted to rage. He wanted to storm, cry, and scream, to unleash his fury and pain. But he didn't seem to have it in him. Instead, he turned and sat on his throne. There he sat, pensive, unmoving, until the sun had dawned. Until the sun crested and set. When night had fallen once more, Jareth stood and quitted his throne room. Once the doors were open, the raucous noise of rambunctious goblins met his ears. Jareth refused to unleash his pain on them – they hadn't done anything wrong. Instead, he stepped around them, past them, not saying anything, barely looking at them. He made his way to his chambers, and there he paced the night through. When the sun had dawned on the second day, Jareth reached several conclusions.
First, he still loved Sarah. She did not love him back. She may never love him back. But, oh, how he loved her. In her he saw strength, courage, power, beauty, and love, just not for him. Her dreams fascinated him: they were so powerful, so beautiful, and yet so cruel. She had chosen him as her adversary: she had wanted him to be cruel, to be domineering, to be the evil Goblin King. And in fulfilling her dreams, he had forfeited his own. But he had forfeited his heart long ago, and he found he did not want it back.
Second, he could not mope as he had been doing. He wasn't the first to experience unrequited love, and he wouldn't be the last. It wouldn't kill him, no matter how much it hurt.
And third, he still had a kingdom to rule, a Labyrinth to run, and goblins to deal with. He was, after all, The Goblin King. Just not the one Sarah had made him be.