Okaaaayyy, I'm sorry this one is out so late, and yes, I have more chapters done...they're being...edited as I reread and reread them. XD

So I'm beginning to think I'm losing my mind, and I know it feels like the story is going kinda slow, but things are going to pick up in the next few chapters kay? :D Bear with me here. Pleeeease review and tell me what you guys think! Only a couple people have and I really want to know what I can work on, considering this is the first story I've decided to publish. Anyway, back to the story!~

Jareth paced about the warm room, trying to dissolve some of his wrath. The heavy curtains were drawn, a fire was lit, the bed had thick quilts put on, and she was still shivering. She was still too cold, what more could he do right now? In an attempt to decrease his anger he threw crystals that disappeared within inches of solid objects. It helped so far, so he was now aimlessly circulating one across his hands, trying to sort his thoughts together. Why had she been so far north to begin with? Usually when she needed something, she would just ask him. What had made now any different than before? He ran a hand through his pale mane, frustrated with himself for not noticing her absence beforehand.

"Jareth," her voice came out from the bed, filled with gravel. He raised his head, seeing green eyes looking up at him, and walked over to her side, brushing back the fallen hair from her face. There was a tear line streaking down from her eyes as she looked up at him. He didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry," she whispered with a half-choked sob, his finger brushed away her tear. The cold from her body still seeped into his hand when he touched her face. He leaned down, inches away from her lips. She was still mumbling apologies as he leaned in closer and ever so gently pressed his lips to hers. The trembling stopped suddenly. He pushed a bit harder, moving his lips against hers. She seemed hesitant at first, but within moments melted into his kiss. Deciding to keep things sweet and tender, his intentions went up in flames when she became more urgent against his mouth. Her hand reached up to intertwine itself into his blonde locks. There was a small fire growing in the pit of her stomach now. Careful of where she was laying Jareth eased himself onto the bed, hovering above her. His tongue pried at the edge of her lips, demanding entrance. She pulled back, leaving his tongue without entry into her mouth. He growled and slipped a hand behind her head, holding her securely to his face and tried slipping his tongue in again. Sarah laughed and let him part of the way into her mouth before closing her teeth and nipping lightly at his tongue. This time, it was he who pulled back.

"You're playing with fire," he warned and rubbed the side of his face against hers. She smiled and turned on her side away from him, at first just to tease. "Maybe I want to get burned," she said her voice starting to fill with sleep, so much against her will.

"Why? Still frozen underneath all those blankets?" he joked and rolled off to the side of her.

"Partially," she mumbled and snuggled up as close as she could to her heated King.

"Sarah," he said pulling back slightly, his eyes growing much more serious than she would have liked. Maybe she thought she would get out of it by hiding under the covers, but he didn't let it go, and pulled them away with a sigh.

"I'm not letting this go until you talk to me, so getting it over with now may be better," he said and sat up to wait for her explanation.

It wasn't going to be easy to tell him. Perhaps it would be a slightly less difficult than to train a lion to jump on cue when a person ate a strawberry, but not by much. Sarah weighed her options in her head, could she tunnel out of a dungeon with a spoon within a week and escape? It was a possibility she felt she should keep in her mind.

Jareth's eyes narrowed on her and she realized he was probably looking into her thoughts for an explanation. Her spoon theories were only disrupting the truth he wanted to get to. Keeping her smile hidden from his eyes she tossed around a few other ideas for him to appraise.

"Sarah," his voice came sternly. Joke time was over. She looked away ashamedly and, rather than trying to put all her feelings into words, let all her thoughts, plans, feelings flood her mind.

Everything from the talk with the other goblins, to fighting off the beast in the hole (which she still had the sword from, and which caused the most interesting face to appear on his Majesty's face). The reason she'd left; wanting to restore her sight on her own showing him she was strong enough to fight her own battles. All the joys and feelings she felt from her first flight to running for her life in the blackest woods she'd ever encountered. She lingered over the details on the pendant she'd bought, thinking about how much it reminded her of Jareth every time she looked at it. The majestic eyes so detailed it was hard to see a flaw in them. She ran through the story twice in her head, starting at the stable and ending at the river just before he had saved her.

Jareth remained silent the entire tale, carefully mulling over each thought and feeling she'd felt throughout her so-called "adventure". At first it was baffling to him why she'd left in the first place and it confused him even further when she gave him her reason. So she wanted to prove she was strong? He knew that already. She had already previously beaten the Labyrinth, lived on after her family's death, adjusted to life in the Underground, and managed to fight for him when she hardly had reasons to do so. How much stronger could a woman get?

He banished the thought quickly when he worried of the consequences, certainly Sarah could do more than that, and it stirred a flicker of new worry inside him, but he ignored it and continued looking through her mind for now.

Sky was an incredible piece of her journey, and Jareth found Sarah loved the feeling of riding all throughout. She neither complained it was taking too long, nor that he was uncomfortable to ride for such a far distance. Something told him yesterday was not going to be the end of days that she rode him, and it made him feel almost proud that she wasn't going to stop.

It interested him when she got to the part about the necklace. Each detail so clear in her mind it was as though he were looking at it himself. He loved it when she lingered on the eyes and how she described them, a part he truly loved about himself, though not saying this to other people. A trace of thought made him wonder if she had lost it during the rapids she'd fallen into, perhaps it was still in the leather bag now sitting in the corner of the room next to the fire place drying.

Sarah paused in her thoughts before continuing on about the River that healed her, the beast, and falling into the river she'd almost drowned in. Any person knew, he was going to be angry about this no matter how she thought about it.

Angry was an understatement. Jareth was almost shaking with fury as he watched her grow closer and closer to the Forest border where the darkness was hardly being held back from. He understood he hadn't told her never to go there, but it wasn't in her place to leave the castle without telling him anyway.

It all made sense when she came across the beast, Jareth openly hissed when she thought about how she'd been running for her life and fallen into the hole, still telling herself she wasn't going to call for help, and that this was her own battle to fight. Inside of him, a glimmer of pride struck when he watched her fight, but it was soon overridden by anger again when she was nearly attacked again. She was coming closer to the river's events now, and Jareth's breathing caught inside his chest.

She tried her best to think about the whole event lightly, but it didn't help. The remembrance of the cold water, how it stung it was so freezing. The cramps in her muscles as she struggled to the surface for air, and the feeling of impending doom when she swallowed mouthful after mouthful of water into her lungs. Each second she had been underwater, Sarah had thought she was going to die. But, despite that she had almost died, nothing could have dampened the feeling of joy she had when Jareth had pulled her out of the water and onto the dry, solid bank. The warmth that had spread through her when he held her tightly in his arms, forcing heat into her frozen, numb body.

Bit by bit, Jareth's anger was dissolving as Sarah continued to think about the way she'd felt when he'd rescued her. It wasn't as though he wanted to harm her, to him she had been so close to losing her again it frightened him more than anything he'd ever seen before. Battles and beasts were nothing compared to the thoughts of losing a loved one. Even with the amount of magic he possessed, not even he could bring back the dead. Sarah probably understood that more than anyone else.

He took a deep breath, followed by several more before he turned to look at her. She was hanging her head with shame, not befitting her in the slightest. His arms reached out tenderly and he pulled her into him, his grasp sure and strong.

"I'm not truly angry with you since, to be honest, it was my fault that I didn't tell where I don't want you going," he paused and pulled away to face her, thinking, "So for future reference: One, don't ever leave the castle grounds without me knowing; Two, never, I mean NEVER, going anywhere towards the Northwest Villages. Things are far too dangerous up there right now, and I don't want you anywhere near trouble for a long while if possible." Telling her about the darkness wasn't a discussion he wanted to get into at the moment, and felt it best to leave it.

She nodded in agreement and he let out the air he'd be holding in, letting her loose from his grasp as well. He pushed gently onto her shoulders, urging her to lay down and rest from everything she'd had to endure in the past few days. The softness of the large bed rushed into her senses, her toes curled involuntarily. The Goblin King slid over to her side and wrapped his arms tenderly around her, the cold all but gone from her seemingly sore muscles.

If she stayed inside the stone walls of the castle grounds, surrounded carefully by powerful Fae soldiers, surely she couldn't be caught up in danger right?

Things remained silent among the castle for a while. Goblins did their chores without complaint, and stayed as far away from his Majesty as they could. Most of Jareth's anger was reined in near Sarah, but elsewhere it broiled inside of him. Simmering angrily, it was only time until one accidental move by a goblin and there was little chance he or she would live to see another day.

He stood, arms crossed, looking out into the gardens where Sarah was sitting with a small stack of books next to her. Most of them containing nothing but myths and legends of the Underground and the Goblin Kingdom, although, some of them did contain much of his land's history, and how he ruled it.

He wondered idly if she wasn't going to like what she found, but after the way she'd defended him so readily against Moirah, he doubted he had much to fear. A small smirk crossed his lips as he remembered how dangerous Sarah had appeared, it was a memory he never would forget; as if he forgot memories anyway.

Fae in the Underground are mysterious creatures, not like the ones people hear about in books in the Aboveground. They weren't happy and gay all the time, and not compassionate or merciful. They were immune to most regular diseases, although they did have virus breeds of their own that could make them ill.

Most Fae were naturally gorgeous, and that tended to make them very egotistical and vain. Not all of them had connections with magic, it was either you were born with the talent or not, like a 50/50 chance. Even though some Fae couldn't use magic that didn't mean that they didn't have uncanny natural abilities.

Those without magic tended to be extremely gifted in things such as smarts, strategy planning, fast medical learning, welders, blacksmiths, archers, swordsmen, the list continued on and on. They all possessed immortality towards illness and age, but could be killed in battle. But, the most significant trait about Fae, they never interacted with humans.

Jareth flexed his gloved hand and materialized a crystal into his palm. He'd been resisting the event ever since Sarah got back, but was pretty certain he couldn't postpone the Goblin Ball much longer. An annual event held for hundreds of years, Fae from all over the area came in elegant gowns and danced the night away together. The ball in itself represented a treaty that had been agreed on between Jareth and another kingdom centuries ago, thanks to this event its bonds strengthened every year. The goblins in the kingdom celebrated the day too, holding parties with each other drinking away the land's beer supply, and building a giant wooden chicken to burn at the stroke of midnight.

He wasn't concerned about the other Fae and their opinions. What bothered him was how would Sarah react towards the harshness of the other Fae against her simply because she was a human. Jareth heard a knock on the door, interrupting his thought pattern, which was followed by a prompt entrance of a royal guard.

Sarah's eyes swayed back and forth, over and over as she read the tales of the Underground. Each myth was slightly connected to the other in some way. Wearing a light blue shirt, with the same pants, boots, and corset, her hair was in a single braid to stay out of her face. So engrossed in the stories her heart was accelerating whenever the tale took a turn for the worst. Four of the books she borrowed she'd already finished. Her mind was totally lost in another world of fantasy, as if she wasn't already in a fantasy world to begin with. The names of the stories threw her off at first. Titles like: Spoons of the Dead, The Haunted Pillowcase of Hollywrinkle, Clock Tower's Revenge, Nightwish Epidemic, The Kings Downfall.

The last one caught her attention more than the other's had. It told the story of a king, thousands of years before Jareth was even born, who ruled a unified kingdom and had destroyed every threat against it. Hundreds of years into his rule, however, he began to harbor jealous feelings for his brother's kingdom, and in wanting it, killed his own brother for the land. His greed grew and grew, until a pitch darkness had consumed his entire heart. People lived in terror as the darkness had a way of spreading into the hearts of others, it wasn't long until chaos had consumed the entire kingdom, innocent blood being spilled every night.

Sarah's eyes widened as she read on. Although it had been defeated and sealed away, legends have been told it waits for its perfect vessel so it may feed and spread again. One with anger and hatred in his heart, simply waiting to unleash his revenge at the perfect moment.

She put the book aside, trying to sort out her thoughts.

'But it's only a legend right? The darkness isn't really out there waiting for a vessel right? One with anger in his heart…Jareth wouldn't harbor grudges would he?'

She jumped up when she felt a hand come onto her shoulder.

"Sorry, you startled me," she said with a laugh when she saw it was Jareth standing there with a smiling inquisitive look on his face.

"I was so lost in those books I thought you were something coming after me," she explained and gathered them up into her arms to head back inside. He took a few to lighten the burden for her, really how many books could a single person go through in such a short amount of time?

"I might have, but for different reasons," he added with a whisper and kissed a soft spot just behind Sarah's ear. Shivers raced down her spine to her toes, such a thrill he could send coursing through her. It was so pleasing to him that something as small as that could affect her so wonderfully. His arm snaked around her waist as they walked back into the castle, heading to his study to eat lunch.

"I actually was going to talk to you about something Love," he paused and snapped his fingers, creating instant fire into the mantle. She hopped up onto his desk, examining one of his crystals as he sat down in his chair that resembled his throne.

"What's that your Majesty?" she said not noticing she'd suddenly slipped into formal language, and continued turning the crystal in her hands. Unthinkingly she glimpsed at it at an angle and was looking into her memory of dance with Jareth all those years ago.

He smirked as he watched her eyes glow with enchantment. It was a memory he was more fond of than she knew, but needing to talk to her, he daintily took the crystal out of her hand and crushed it into his palm. Blinking she looked back towards him, waiting for him to continue.

"There's an annual event coming up in my kingdom called the Goblin Ball. It's been held for hundreds of years to help remember a treaty set between my kingdom and a neighboring one. Fae from all over the area come to attend dressed up in, yes that's right, masquerade costumes, while enjoying the entire night dancing," he paused and cleared his voice before continuing, "I was wondering if perhaps you'd like to accompany me?"

She smiled and nodded her head, her memory overrunning her thoughts. Dancing with the king, being in his arms, remembering the song he sang to her. All the shining jewels, the elegant gowns, each person wearing a mask and trying to steal Jareth away from her, hardly succeeding once she came into sight. Her memory, relived once again, with nothing to frighten her away, no clock to race to win her brother. This could be her greatest dream come true, should it not?

"Sarah, listen dearest, there's a catch to having such a splendid time with you," he said sensing her overwhelming joy and began reaching for his food.

"Despite that I'm a Fae and nothing could ever drive me away from your side, other Fae are very vain creatures by nature, and they hate nothing more than interacting with humans," he looked seriously at her, "they aren't going to be easy to deal with. Scowls, rumors, spiteful tricks they can be very difficult to deal with. Whatever you do, keep your head held proudly and don't let anything get to you if you can help it," he finished saying and handed her a plate of food which she took gratefully.

"I was reading that in one of my books earlier, too egotistical to engage with mortals," she paused and swallowed a piece of warm juicy turkey. She took another bite before continuing,

"Simply because we can't compare in life span and beauty, they decide it's better to have nothing to do with them at all, afraid of catching mortality one author suggested. Personally, I think they're scared they'll realize we're much smarter than they give us credit for," Sarah added and resumed eating her food.

He smiled briefly at her comment before turning to the papers in front of him, his food already eaten and taken, seeing they were in fact the invitations to be address and sent for the ball, as well as the plans to be arranged. Most of the décor was reused from previous years, and the food could be made day of, Sarah's gown would need to be made, but that would hardly take any time for his seamstress goblins.

Particular with the invitations all of them needed to be handwritten, no magic to create them and send them. It was part of the custom, and it was more honorable, to write them all by hand. A way of showing other Fae the time and energy you spent on simply writing made it all worthwhile to show up at the ball.

He reached for an ink pot and began filling the papers out with an elegant scroll in a language Sarah couldn't read, but the letters did look beautiful without even knowing how to read them correctly. It almost resembled the Celtic alphabet, long swirls with dots and squiggles over different letters. It took him a few minutes but he finished the first one and set it aside, reaching for another as the fire flickered on in the silence of the room.

Sarah picked up the stiff piece of paper that you could tell was a regal invitation. Gazing over the letters she noticed the ink was laced with a purple and gold metallic color, as if representing the Goblin King himself.

'What a way to send an invitation,' she thought to herself and scanned the letters.

"What language is this Jareth?" she asked still looking over the first invitation though he'd already moved on to his fifth.

He reached for more ink, "It's called Ansel, the tongue of the Fae," and scribbled more of the elaborate script across the formal stationary.

She glanced at him, noting the circles under his were darker than usual, a sign her was sleeping less, and she moved over so that she was sitting on his lap, purposely interrupting him. Setting the pen down he wrapped his arms around her to hold up as her hand drifted back through his soft silky locks before settling down on his neck.

"Speak to me in it," she said looking earnestly in his eyes, something mischievous glinting behind them, never a good idea. He narrowed his gaze for a moment.

"Why do you look like you're planning something?" he pondered and traced a hand down her face tenderly before taking her chin and looking right into her. The words that came out of his mouth she didn't know how to spell, nor did she know what it meant, here's how it sounded:

"Lisster fael cenn, fouer lael tael shuan," his lips rolled over the letters, his natural language easy and gracefully flowing off his mouth. It was understandable now how enchantments were cast with words more often than not, even if they weren't always audible.

She listened, her eyes locked with his mismatched ones, bewitched with how he spoke to her, his hand brushing back through her soft chocolate brown hair that had fallen out of her braid. Words were power, didn't matter what world you lived in, and his were enchanting her without a magic attachment. Her eyes shut slowly as he continued speaking to her, her head now resting in the crook of his neck. He spoke softly in her ear; she was beginning to doze off in his arms, delaying his work even farther.