There was silence. For a while Sarah could only contemplate just how very loud the sound of nothing truly was. Her eyes were closed tightly, her breath labored as she tried to regain a sense of where she was. Had she really said the words? Had she really wished herself away? In searching her mind she could see the answer as clear as day.

Yes.

And when she asked herself why she had let her tongue betray her so, the answer tickled in the back of her head.

Because this is what you want.

Steeling herself, she took a shaky breath, preparing herself for the consequences of her words. As they opened they took a moment to adjust the light once more. It took her only a second to realize that she hadn't moved.

The heady scent of the graveyard still hung low in the air, the sun rapidly disappearing below the horizon. For a moment she was stunned, her mouth opening and closing, working wordlessly as she tried to understand. She glanced around, searching for any sign of the phantom man that was before her only seconds ago.

"Goblin King?" She whispered, her voice travelling across the land only to return to her with a sad resignation. No one was there to hear it.

She began to panic, her heart thudding hard in her chest.

"Jareth?" Her voice was hoarse as she turned in circles, trying to find a trace that he had been there. That she wasn't crazy.

"I said the words. I said them!" Sarah cried out, the tears in her eyes burning her cheeks as they cascaded.

But Jareth was gone. He had abandoned her.

Sarah would come to remember that night as one of the longest she had ever endured. Her body was torn between fleeing from the humiliation of believing he would help her to the tiny spark of faith that if she simply waited long enough…he would come back.

But as the hours passed and the chill of the night began to soak into her spine, she found her legs carrying her to the car, turning on the engine and driving away.

Jareth watched the forlorn figure tread softly across the dry grass, sheltering himself from those cruel eyes in the branches of a tree. He cursed his soul. He had been so close, so close to taking her away. It went against every rule he had mercilessly followed as King; he knew the consequences of such an action. He could take children, but he could not take her.

But as he looked into those emerald orbs of hers he could not help feel an exquisite ache in his heart. And she had asked, by the Gods she had nearly begged him to take her. Stupid girl. She had no idea what it would mean to give herself over to the Goblin King. And she would hate him for it.

He had been foolish so far. Just because he could not take her did not mean he could not give himself the small satisfaction of watching her. He remembered the first night he had granted himself that one small mercy.

Bound in his winged form he flew above her small town, gliding through the clouds as his mind raged against him. It had been years since he had seen her. Years. The mere memory of the time spent staring at the cold granite of his castle walls and replaying the memories of their brief meetings was torture. But he had allowed it, for the sweet poison of her image made him feel something for the first time in centuries. At first he thought it was hate. He convinced himself that he despised the young girl, from the emerald orbs of her gaze to the soft pout of her lips; he had tried to turn his heart against her. It was only when his treacherous mind allowed the remembrance of her self-satisfied smiles and barbed comments that he had come to realize the truth. She was his Champion. The only girl to have bested the Labyrinth, one he had made of his own design. As his thoughts plunged deeper, aided by the copious barrels of Goblin wine did he begin to realize what that meant. He had made the Labyrinth, crafted it from his own forgotten nightmares and dying dreams, his very soul had been laid bare before her. Yet she did not cower in fright. She did not run. She had gazed at the very core of his being and started her journey with a smile. She had conquered his Labyrinth, yes…but perhaps without either of them realizing it, she had conquered him.

The night his thoughts had wandered down that dangerous road he remembered the way his gloved hands curled around his goblet, the delicate crystal shattering beneath his fingertips. How dare she. How dare she stare him in the face after perusing his very soul and deny him. The foolish girl barely knew what she had done, and yet the anger and desire he felt pulsed through his veins as one, igniting his heart into a startling decision. Almost without his mind acknowledging it, his body carried him to the window, the very same window where he had perused her dreams of ballrooms and princes. And he had gifted them to her. How very generous. With that final thought and a growl, he hurled himself from the ledge, his muscles tightening and shortening; skin prickling as feathers sprouted through every pore. It was always an uncomfortable transformation; the physical exertion of his bones and muscles rearranging themselves had always left him shaking and flying low for a while. But not tonight. Tonight he would see little Sarah Williams and make her realize what she had done.

Flying above the town he could see the familiar figure of her home, the rooftop arching below him. With the wind screeching around him he circled the house to find her window, landing on the ledge with as much grace he could muster.

To his shame the rage inside of him dampened as he saw the girl. In the flurry of emotions he had almost forgotten. Years. It had been years. And by the Gods those years had changed her. She sat hunched over a desk, pen hovering over a sheet of paper. But it was a different body from which he remembered. She used to be a little thing, puppy fat in her cheeks and the traitorous promise of curves yet to grow had taunted him with the knowledge that she was not yet ready for him. Not quite ripe. But even now as a shiver ran through him he could see that she was still not quite there. It was like viewing a half finished tapestry when the final strands had not been woven into place. Her limbs had lengthened and thinned, and in the darkness he could see the delicious curve of breasts and thighs that were welcoming womanhood. Her teeth were toying with cherry plumped lips, the midnight fall of her hair covering most of her face from him. But as she gave a quick shake of her head, clearing her mind of some lost thought did he remember her cruelty and his reason for such a reckless journey.

He tapped against the glass, beak hitting the cold pane three times. Her head turned to him slowly, and for the first time he saw her eyes again. Those cruel eyes gazed at him like shards of jade in the night, sparking the painful memory of those words.

You have no power over me

How dare she.

Sarah had left her seat, walking slowly towards the window with a wary expression. He tapped against the window again.

"Shoo!" She said, the shaking of her hands betraying the false confidence she wore. For a moment Jareth contemplated breaking the window. As he felt his body trembling, preparing the bones to split and break once more into his preferred form she spoke.

"It's not fair you know. To show someone something like that and take it away." Sarah whispered, and given his magnified hearing it seemed as if she had whispered it like a lover in his ear. But he did not know what she meant.

"I lost myself in fairytales…everyday, I just…And then you showed up and showed me that they were real. It was all real. And 13 hours later you sent me home and I've got to just forget. How can I forget that there's something more to life than going to school and getting a job and settling down, and I…." She stopped herself, and Jareth waited with baited breath, his heart caught in a trembling he had not expected.

She was in pain. Of all the things he expected it was not that she would suffer just as he did. The anger in him died a quiet death, retreating to the recesses of his thoughts.

"I don't hate you for taking Toby. But I hate you for that." With a quick slight of hand she moved the curtains, disappearing from sight. The loss of her seemed to hurt even more than it did the first time.

Everything had changed after that night. He had expected the same smug little girl, self righteous in her arrogance and ready to use her wicked tongue to slice him again with her words. But she was different. She was almost fragile, damaged. They were the same. In truth he knew it was a good thing that Sarah had enough sense to close the curtains on him, because if he had kept his gaze upon her for even a moment longer he would have stolen her away. But he made a vow that night. He would allow himself those small moments of grace, allow himself to be near her for even a few precious seconds to ease both of their suffering. Even if he couldn't take her, he would still have this.

The next time shook the very core of him. The goblins in his castle shivered as he paced the throne room, tapping his cane loudly against his thigh and almost grateful for the blossoming pain it gave him. He knew what she was doing. Without even crystal gazing he knew it. He had spent hours watching her dance with a young man raucously, but when he saw her grab the boy's hand and pull him away from the throng of people he knew. His fingers twitched, another crystal forming a soft weight against his fingertips. Gazing into it he saw her. His Sarah. His precious girl crushed under the weight of some panting drunkard. He sneered, about to toss the crystal away, shattering the sight before him. But that was until he saw the trembling of her hands, the fluttering of her eyes as she gazed around the room beneath the kiss. His gaze softened. She was scared. The poor girl had jumped headfirst into something without even realizing what she was doing. Again. With a sigh he looked over to the shaking pile of goblins and started to his bedchamber. The mirror that hung from the expanse of wall opposite his bed was the only portal he would allow himself tonight. He feared that if he allowed a physical presence he might do something he would regret. He blew softly on the mirror, watching as he made ripples in the glass that trembled into another sight.

Sarah.

Oh Sarah.

Her hair was mussed and her face pale, lipstick smeared across her face. In other circumstances the sight would have been inviting, but the fear and drunken stupor she was in shattered the illusion. He allowed his eyes to wander over to the boy in the rumpled bed linen before casting an eye back to her. His words caught in his throat, his body allowing him only a simple shake of his head. He wanted to tell her not to do it, not to do something that she would regret and hate herself for. A sly voice whispered in the back of his mind that he only wanted to keep her for himself; he wanted to be the one to spoil her innocence and reclaim what she had denied him. Quieting the voice he bowed his head, allowing the mirror to ripple back to normality. It had to be her choice. But just before the portal closed completely he heard his Champion's words.

"I think you should leave."

And for the first time in a long time, Jareth allowed himself a small smile of triumph.

The first time he had allowed himself a physical presence in her world had been almost too much to bear. It had been a few months since he last saw her, and the amount of time he had spent crystal gazing had become almost unhealthy. He knew at the very least it was obsessive. It seemed to be the Eve of the New Year in Sarah's world, and he could not quite bring himself to feel triumph or happiness when the object of her affections denied her a kiss, choosing instead to lose himself in another. The emotion bubbled away under the surface, but the sight of her tears seemed to quell them. Just as they always did. He closed his eyes and felt the breeze change as he crossed over into her world. When he opened them he found himself gazing at the back of her head, perhaps a little closer than he intended to be. But the pale expanse of her skin that was exposed to him in her dress seemed to break his heart just a little more. The chiming of a clock rang through the night, and he presumed it brought back memories of their final meeting for both of them. He closed his eyes, allowing an arm to encircle her waist and feel her warmth. He imagined a scene long ago. He could imagine 13 chimes, not 12. And instead of loss and her denial of him he imagined her acceptance and that this was his triumph. Sarah Williams in his arms and the bells ringing for a new dawn with his Champion by his side.

"What do you want?" She whispered, shattering the illusion. He withheld a sigh, choosing only instead to place a soft kiss atop her head. He left her in the next moment, cradling his heart in his hands with a dream that was not meant to be.

After that, it happened more often than he cared to admit. He supposed it was those damned tears of hers. They called to him, begging him to ease their journey and silence them all together. A kiss upon her cheek and a hand against her skin was all he ever allowed himself. But he never allowed her to gaze upon him again. He would not be subject to those cruel eyes.

And now here he was. He knew it was all a mistake when he started visiting her, somehow he knew they would end up here. She had wished himself away and he would damn himself to all of the Gods above and below for not just taking her. Maybe he had grown soft over the centuries. Maybe he was stronger than he thought himself to be. But he knew at that moment that in her sorrow she did not mean it, and the triumph of having and keeping her would mean nothing if that were the case. But he would wait for all time if he had to. After all, to him he supposed forever was not long at all.

A/N: I hope the second chapter was pleasing, it took a while but I got there in the end! Hopefully updates will be more frequent from now on