A/N: Update, thanks Honoria Granger for pointing out my mistake! Fortunately it's now fixed

As Sarah gazed at the canvas she let out a contented sigh. It was done. Finally.

Her painting of the Labyrinth had been painstaking in its composition and almost impossible in its realisation. Although, she wondered why she was even surprised. The view from her bedroom window was easy enough to commit to canvas, but capturing the magic in the air and the shimmer of each of brick and stone had been nigh on impossible. But she had done it.

Setting the brushes down and wiping her hands on her makeshift apron, she wondered just what time it was. She could see the sun high in the sky and pondered that it was probably around noon. But who could tell, between the time she woke and slept the hours seemed to have a mind of their own. The days could drag for what seemed like an eternity or could be over before she could scarcely blink. The day before had belonged to the latter.

After she and Jareth had finally left the market, he had walked her back to her room in a contented silence. The goodbyes had been brief and he had kissed her hand as he said farewell, smiling as she rolled her eyes. Sleep did not evade her for much longer after that, and she found herself crawling into bed and softly drifting away. She marvelled at just how easy it was beginning to become to fall into a slumber, restful and dreamless. But she knew the reason really; it was because the fractured relationship with Jareth was slowly beginning to mend. After everything was said and done, Jareth was just a man. He may be King, he may be the person who stole her brother away, but somehow amidst the chaos and confusion he had become her friend. She was pleased, more than anything, about that.

"I see you finally finished it." A familiar voice reached her ears and Sarah couldn't help the small smile it gifted her.

"Finally is the right word. It was harder than I thought it would be." She called over her shoulder as Jareth began to walk towards her. As he reached her side he studied the minute details she had added here and there and softened at what a difference it had made. If he thought the picture had been perfect the day before then he could hardly think of a word befitting its current state. It was almost wondrous.

"My compliments to the artist." He murmured as he spied the small figure of a goblin in the corner of the canvas. Sarah shrugged, disappearing into her bathroom to clean the rainbow of colours away from her skin.

"I think that's enough painting for me for a while now. I was almost ready to throw it out of the window at one point." She called from the other room; her voice echoing against the stone.

"Perseverance is key I'm afraid, Sarah."

He watched as she re-emerged, her hands scrubbed pink.

"Anyway, Your Majesty. To what pleasure do I owe this visit?" She smiled gently, hands on her hips as she waited expectantly. Jareth glanced about the room, clasping his hands behind his back with a nervous air.

"First I want to know, Sarah...may I keep this painting? If it's no trouble to you of course." He said quietly, his eyes returning to rove over the delicate brush strokes. Sarah paused, mulling on his words for a moment.

"Hang it? You want it?"

"Of course I do. Fine work should be celebrated." Jareth said, a slight scold in his tone at her modesty, yet she only gave a nonchalant nod.

"If you say so. Where do you want to hang it?"

"In the gallery, of course." He quirked an eyebrow as he heard her small intake of breath, a smirk beginning to dance on his lips as he realised how deeply delighted she was.

"You have a gallery and you never told me?" The outrage in her voice was palpable. Yet he still played the fool.

"I did not think it was relevant."

"Of course it is! Show me! I want to see what kind of art this world has." She marched over to him, tugging at his arm in an effort to get him to move. He glanced down at her with a smile.

"As you wish."

"I'm afraid it's all rather boring. Just portraits and the like." Jareth stated as they stood at the entrance to the gallery. Great chandeliers hung from the ceiling, each holding what seemed like a thousand burning candles. The flames cast long shadows across the hall, shrouding the paintings in darkness.

"Could this look any more terrifying?" She whispered, only half joking. Jareth cast a glance to her.

"I'm afraid the decor in the castle does leave one wanting. It hasn't been changed for thousands of years...not since I was a child now I think about it."

Sarah whipped her gaze to him, studying his face expecting to see a smirk or smile. Instead he remained stoic. She had thought on it only briefly yesterday when they had spoke, but now she was curious. He couldn't be that old. It was impossible.

"You are joking, aren't you? You're not...you can't be that old." She nudged him, almost desperate for an answer.

He stared her down for a while before laughing.

"No. Not a thousand years fortunately, that was an exaggeration. I'd say more like hundreds."

Sarah stared at him, eyes wide. She could feel an itch in her hands, wanting to reach out and feel the ivory skin of his face, intent to find a catch or hinge or something that told her he was wearing a mask. No one could look like that after so long.

"How on Earth do you look so..." She trailed away, her brow furrowing as she studied him for signs of aging. Apart from a few fine lines here and there she could not bring herself to believe it.

"How do I look so what? Devastatingly handsome? Youthful?"

He could have almost recoiled from the death stare she gave him.

"Time moves differently here." He relented, satisfied when she retreated.

"Well, I don't think my father would approve of this arrangement at all." Sarah muttered to herself, allowing him to pull her along the lengthy corridor of the gallery.

As they walked through the hall Sarah marvelled at the figures suspended in paint before her. All were crafted so exquisitely she could have almost imagined the people standing before her. Every detail was so sharp. From the stray hairs to the fine lines to the pores on their faces, she felt as if she knew these people intimately. Never had she seen artistry quite like this. The thought of her own work sitting amongst them was almost embarrassing, but Jareth had been insistent. She let the topic lie, choosing instead to look at the strangers in frames around her.

"Tell me about them. The people in the pictures." She nudged his shoulder with her own and Jareth glanced around, wondering just where to start.

"Well, they are all the monarchs of this realm and other people of note…" His voice trailed away as he seemed to be searching for one painting in particular. As he spied it he pointed, directing Sarah to a large gilded frame.

"This is our first known King and Queen."

She tilted her head as she gazed at the scene, a man and woman stood on the rocks of some kind of coastline, the water of the sea crashing around them and flashes of thunder illuminating their faces. The paleness of their skin was almost extraordinary compared to the contrast of their hair, both as black as the night sky around them. They both had harsh faces, angular and powerful with dark eyes that seemed to bore into her very soul. Yet they stood apart, cold and calculating…looking at the image she could tell there was no love between them.

"They're kind of terrifying." Sarah whispered in awe. Jareth nodded in agreement.

"Pure Fae. Both of them. Yet not much is known about them, or where they came from. They began the records and neglected to tell us anything that came before. Rather selfish if you ask me." He took her arm, gently moving her down the rows of pictures.

"And so we continue. Monarch after monarch after monarch. Yet here, here is where it becomes interesting."

They stopped before a portrait of a man, similar in looks to the one before. He stood by a heavy red curtain, his hand resting on a young sandy haired girls shoulder.

"This is the first human bride taken."

Sarah glanced at Jareth, frowning as she took in the small girl. She looked no older than 16, and that was being generous. Her coarse hair was in a long braid, reaching almost to her waist. But in her round blue eyes there were the beginnings of unshed tears. She supposed that the artist had captured every excruciating detail he had seen before him that day.

"She's just a child!" She whispered, scandalised at the fear on the subject's face. Jareth at least had the decency to shift uncomfortably.

"This world is archaic, Sarah. It hardly mattered much." He saw her open her mouth, a question poised on the tip of her tongue before shook her head to clear whatever thought she held there. But he knew what she was going to ask.

"Might there have been a similar picture of you and me? If you had accepted my offer, of course." His words were kind and Sarah pursed her lips, damning him for being able to see through her so clearly. She gave a terse nod.

"Sarah, it is not an alien notion to me. I did not think much on it. But know that I would not have forced myself on you. Every human girl taken...the King waits until she is of age before...bedding them, so to speak. They were kept as wards at first."

She sighed deeply, looking downwards to the wide stone slabs on the floor. It was an uncomfortable subject for both of them, and today was not the day to broach it.

"It's alright." She mumbled.

"Indeed. I suggest we move on." He said quietly, turning away from the picture and casting his gaze to the others, trying to find something to lighten the mood. It seemed however, that Sarah beat him to it.

He saw her walk to a painting with not one woman, but two beside the King, flanking him on each side. Jareth held back a knowing smile.

"What's this here? Don't tell me your polygamists as well?" She said over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised.

"Ah, now this...this was quite the scandal. Good old King Theron couldn't quite decide if he liked his wife better...or his mistress. So he had them both painted." He relished the look of indignant shock across her face as her mouth dropped.

"That's awful!"

"Oh, it gets better. Legend has it that he said to the painter, it is such a shame that I cannot place my wife's head upon my mistress's body. Together they would make only one satisfactory woman." He laughed a little at the raised eyebrows he received in return for his anecdote.

"What a charmer."

"Quite the scoundrel I assure you."

And so on they went, but as they drew nearer to the end she felt Jareth go stiff beside her, his eye taken with the last portrait on the wall. As she cast her gaze to the picture she knew exactly why.

"These...well, these are my parents." He murmured softly, stepping closer to look at the figures before him. She wondered how long it had been since he had seen the painting; by the way he regarded it she thought it must have been years.

His parents stood, side by side before a completely black backdrop. His father had a piercing gaze, his eyes blue and bright, not unlike his son's. She could see that the heavy black beard hid an angular face and the scowl masked what she assumed would be handsome features. It shocked her to see just how stern he looked, clad in heavy metal armour, a sword at his side. Her eyes drifted to his mother, her lips parting in gentle realisation as she saw that she had been the one to gift Jareth his looks. She had flowing hair, as white as ivory and in a state of disarray. She stood with her hands clasped before her, head slightly bowed in what seemed like an act of obedience to the King. She seemed gentle, her features soft and stature small. But above all else, she was beautiful.

"You look very much like your mother." Sarah whispered, not wanting to look at Jareth and confront the emotion on his face.

"Everyone says it." He agreed softly. They were silent for a few moments as they took in the image, Sarah trying to stop the questions from tripping over her lips and Jareth desperately trying to think of something to say.

"That grave you found, the one that looked out of place…it was my mother's." He wasn't quite sure why he said it, or why he wanted Sarah to know it. But she nodded in understanding, her mind being cast back to the blindingly white tombstone.

"It was a beautiful place to put them to rest." She said gently, saddened at the sight of the long dead couple.

"I did not bury my father with her."

Sarah turned slowly to him with wide eyes, unsure if he had even realised that he said it. She was unsettled to see the faint anger lurking on his face.

"Why?"

At the question he seemed to come back to himself, shaking his head and giving her a disarming smile.

"Now is not the time, I think." He said gently, willing her silently to understand and let his slip of the tongue go. To his eternal gratitude she accepted his reluctance and gestured to the blank expanse of wall, ready for the next portrait.

"So where's your picture oh great King Jareth?"

He laughed.

"It is custom to only receive a royal portrait when a King marries. So, I suppose...you and I will adorn that space."

They stood for a moment before the blank wall, and she supposed that each of them were wondering just what their picture would look like. Would they look cold and distant from each other like the first King and Queen? Would Sarah have the glisten of unshed heartbreak in her eyes? Or maybe they would be smiling, content. Sarah felt a knot in her stomach at the overwhelming thought. She cleared her throat; attempting a smile.

"I suppose it will be an honour."

"The highest. Yet...for now, I think I'd like to hang your picture of the Labyrinth there."

"You can't Jareth. This is a portrait room. Don't want to ruin the aesthetic." She pleaded, again wincing at the notion of her work amongst the sophisticated pieces.

"Nonsense." He scolded. He clicked his fingers and a group of goblins appeared, holding up her canvas.

"Up there if you will, please." He instructed them, satisfied when they began clambering over each other to reach the space.

"Thank you." Sarah relented, taking his arm as he began to lead her out of the gallery. He waved her away with a sigh.

"There is something that I should tell you however, Sarah."

She felt her heart clench as she walked, dreading whatever truth was lurking between them. Please don't let it be something awful she thought. Don't let it be another deception and ruin whatever this was between them.

"What is it?" She breathed, not wanting to look at him.

"I'm afraid I came to inform you that our engagement ball will be tomorrow night." He watched her face, gauging the reaction as her mouth parted gently in surprise.

"Oh." Was the only reply she offered him. Jareth took a deep breath, moving to stand before her.

"I know it's soon. I just...I just want to get this part over and done with." He murmured, wishing that she would at least meet his eyes. After a moment she sucked in a breath, placing a carefully masked smile on her face.

"Okay. It's okay. I suppose that I knew it was coming after all." Despite the hesitance in her eyes, Jareth couldn't help but sigh in relief. She almost jumped as his hand came up to squeeze her shoulder gently.

"Thank you." He whispered. Sarah shrugged her shoulders, a smirk forming on her lips.

"But, you owe me one in that case. And I think I know what you can do to make it up to me." She watched as he shifted, a grin that was borderline indecent gracing his face.

"I could do many things to make it up to you, Sarah."

She wriggled out from his hold, a scandalised gasp torn from her.

"Jareth, do I need to remind you that my virtue is to remain untouched?" She whispered, her voice outraged yet her eyes twinkling. For a moment he marvelled at her. Never before had he seen her so playful, so happy. The well-placed guard she had built before him was finally crumbling, piece by piece. It made him happier than he could have ever imagined.

"What a travesty it is." He sighed, only half joking. She rolled her eyes at him, walking to a nearby window and taking in the sight of the castle grounds below.

"I want a picnic." She said simply, watching the wind whistle through the trees in a motion that seemed more like a gentle caress in the hazy glow of the sun. She heard Jareth pause behind her.

"A picnic? Why on Earth do you want one of those?" The confusion in his voice was palpable. He was a King. She could ask for anything and he would have the power to gift it to her. Yet she wanted something so simple. It was almost incredulous to him.

Sarah gave a nod, her mind humming with delight at how the dew strewn grass would feel against her palms and the warmth of the day would kiss her cheeks.

"I've spent too much time in this castle of yours, Goblin King. I want to be outside."

He made to argue, his mouth opening with an intake of breath...but as she turned to him and he saw the way sunlight made her eyes sparkle just so...well, he could hardly refuse her.

"A picnic it is. But first, we must practice for the ball." A gentle smile lingered as her mouth pouted just a little.

"Practice what?"

"Now. Dancing." Jareth stated as he stood before her, ignoring the groan of distaste she gave. They stood in the middle of a large ballroom, one that had obviously not been used for many years. The only notable feature in the room was a large piano that stood proudly in the centre. All around there were white sheets that draped over the candelabra and covered the pictures, the only light coming from the large windows that adorned the walls. Yet the streams of sunlight served only to highlight the dust in the air. It was clear to Sarah that this was a room long abandoned.

"Dancing. I can't do that." She insisted, a hand coming up to rub against her forehead. Jareth sighed in exasperation, giving her a stern look.

"It's an important part of a ball, Sarah."

"I know! I just don't want everyone to be looking at me." She glanced around as if she could already see phantoms in the shadows watching her from afar.

"That's the point." He said dryly, ignoring the way she scowled at him. As she fiddled with her sleeve, looking down at the floor he felt his heart stutter for just a moment. The poor thing was self-conscious. Although for the life of him he couldn't imagine why. But he could see it in the slight blush that stained her cheeks and the way that she couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye. He felt that now familiar tightness in his chest as she hid behind the length of raven black hair. With a step towards her, he took her hand.

"Sarah...you look ethereal. And every inch a Queen. There is nothing for you to be conscious about." He watched her shift and give a small shake of her head, obviously disbelieving him.

In one reckless moment he found his hand cupping her under the chin and lifting her face to meet his gaze. As her large emerald eyes confronted him, he could tell that she was just as surprised at the action as he was. For a brief moment he found himself staring into the eyes that had haunted him for so long and wondered just how had he ever hated the sight of them. From this close he could see every golden fleck floating in the green pools of her iris and thought it to be a sight he would never tire of. But the strangest thing was that her eyes didn't seem so accusing in this moment, just rather confused. At the expectant look on her face he continued.

"You are the most beautiful woman I've known. I just want to make sure that everyone else sees it too."

Sarah could almost feel time stop as the gentle pressure of his fingers kept her face upturned towards him. It was almost as if she couldn't bring herself to look away from his eyes and the way they were so open and honest to match his words. She remembered how terrifying the sight of the mismatched gaze had been to her for so long. Yet somehow over the last few days it had stopped being scary and had become familiar. She wouldn't dare admit it to herself…but she found it comforting.

Somewhere, deep inside her, she felt a pang of something that was unfamiliar.

"You'll be fine." He insisted gently, mistaking her contemplative silence for nerves. With a small smile she gave a little nod, still trying to deduce just what that pang was as his hand fell away. In the next moment, his voice returned to the normal authoritative command she was used to.

"Now. Take my hand. Place the other on my shoulder."

Sarah jumped a little as a leather clad hand grasped her waist, and quickly fumbled to follow his instructions. Slowly but surely, he began to move them in a simple dance, swaying slowly in a loose circle. The action of it felt familiar, and her mind couldn't help but wander back into a scene so many years ago.

"When I came to the Labyrinth before...we danced." She whispered, allowing herself to be rocked and led across the ballroom. Jareth tried not to allow the pain of the memory show across his face.

"Indeed we did." He murmured, focusing on the steps of the waltz instead.

"So...you were there. In the dream?" She had been curious about the idea for many years. Hours she had spent wondering if he had even remembered what had happened, what he had said to her…

"Of course. I remember as well as you do."

Her heart seemed to skip a beat.

"You made it for me? The dream?"

"No. What transpired was already in your head. I just brought it to life."

She blushed profusely, looking down at the spinning tile floor.

"Chin up. Never look down, always look at me." Jareth scolded quietly, although not unkindly. She tossed her hair back, looking at him once more. There was an intensity lurking in his eyes that told her he remembered the dream far better than she ever would.

"Do you think it'll be okay? The ball I mean?" She whispered, trying to distract from the strange mood. He gave a contemplative shrug.

"I think you'll do perfectly fine. As long as you keep that tongue of yours in check then I foresee no problems." A smirk lingered on his lips as Sarah huffed in indignation.

"I only snap when you goad me." She insisted with a frown.

"And you don't goad me?" He said as he spun her tight. Her head span from the rush and left her clutching to him. With an accusing scowl she spoke.

"You always start it."

"And I think you always start it. What a devastating cycle we seem to find ourselves in."

"Isn't it just?"

The humour in both of their faces betrayed them, and so they danced for a little while more, the steps soon becoming familiar to Sarah.

Jareth took a moment to admire the burgeoning confidence in the young girl before him. What had started out as timid steps and hesitant turns soon mounted into a fluid dance that she seemed at ease with.

"Really though? Joking aside, this is important, isn't it?" Her voice was soft and full of a gentle sort of worry. The furrow in her brow and downcast gaze told him as much.

He pulled her a little closer, still pulling her along in the waltz. He wondered for a moment if he should stop and take her hand…hold her maybe…do something to soothe the turmoil in her mind. But he didn't. They were treading on a thin sheet of ice; one reckless move could send cracks through the whole thing and splinter what remained.

The truth of it was that he was too scared of frightening her away. But he would never admit that to anyone, let alone himself.

"I think they'll love you. And if anybody doesn't...well, to hell with them." He offered instead, keeping his gaze fixed on her.

"Will Lukin be there?"

He withheld a sigh at the thought of the old man.

"Unfortunately, yes."

To his surprise, Sarah nodded thoughtfully, her face hardening with some sort of determination.

"I should probably talk to him, you know...try and get him to like me." She glanced up at Jareth seeking his approval, yet was left disappointed by the doubt written across his features. He grimaced, searching for the right words.

"A man like that is stubborn, Sarah. He is fixed in his ways and he will never admit he's wrong. Not just about you, but about anything. " The biting tone of his voice left Sarah shifting uncomfortably, her muscles tensing at the anger lurking beneath his words. With a soft clear of her throat she spoke somewhat timidly.

"You said, when I asked you before...you said he did not agree with your actions...but you didn't agree with his either. Is there something he did or?..."

"No. He did nothing." Jareth said, his tone was final but his words left her wanting. For once she decided not to press him on it. Instead she flipped her hair back, ruffling the strands and trying for a nonchalant air. As she did she found herself wondering just when they had stopped dancing. Looking at the scene before her she found that they were stood still, his hand still grasping her waist and her hand resting on his shoulder. Trying to quell the rising awkwardness she smiled at him, hoping he hadn't noticed that they were still holding on to each other.

"Well, let's hope I give a great performance tomorrow." To her relief Jareth gave a small laugh at her words, shaking his head.

"Well, I would hope it's not too much of a strain to act like you enjoy my company."

Sarah tutted.

"I'm not pretending you know. Despite everything...It turns out that I actually do like you."

He gave her an affronted look, playing the offended monarch at her reluctant praise.

"Well, consider me honoured."

Sarah looked at him once more, glowering.

"Stop that. I'm just saying...you can actually be good company."

"As can you. Surprisingly. "

There was silence for a long while, each of them standing uneasily as they tried to deduce what to do or say next. To Sarah's relief, Jareth spoke first.

"Let's go through it one more time. But I think you might just have it."

Stepping back, she curtseyed low before the King just like he had taught her, watching as he reciprocated with a bow. In the next moment they had resumed their positions and continued in the abandoned waltz. It had never really hit her before, the reality of the situation. But now, practicing her steps ahead of the night, now it all felt too real. The magnitude of her task was starting to weigh on her, her heart thudding a little harder at the thought. She turned her gaze to him; trying to seek the comfort she had felt only moments before in his eyes.

"Jareth?" She said, ever so quietly.

"Yes?"

"You'll be with me, right? The whole night?" She felt his grip tighten as he heard her words, trying to give her whatever comfort he could offer without crossing a boundary they were both aware of.

"Every step." He assured. Yet he could still see the frown on her face as whatever thought plagued her seemed to overload her mind.

"I'm scared." She mumbled beneath a heavy sigh, swallowing as Jareth abandoned the dance once more. He opened and closed his mouth for a moment, trying to find the words. What did you say to a young girl who had the task of saving a realm and its King? What comfort could you possibly give? For a moment he was lost.

But then he decided to tell the truth.

"I'm scared too."

Sarah scoffed, and if she weren't so worried she thought she would be amused,

"The Goblin king? Ruler of the Labyrinth? I don't think he's scared of anything."

Jareth gave a little shrug however, and she saw no evidence of humour in his eyes.

"I'm terrified. I want this to go well as much as you do. But, I have complete and utter faith in you, Sarah."

She threaded her hands into her hair, clutching at the strands as she tried to breathe deeply. He had so much confidence in her, so much confidence in her abilities to make this thing work. She wondered how he could possibly be so calm when she felt nothing but doubt and anxiety.

"But what if it doesn't go well?" She said imploringly. Jareth only raised his brow a fraction, as if the thought had never even occurred to him. He ran a hand over his face with a sniff, yet he didn't answer.

"What will happen to you? If I mess this up what will happen?" Sarah pushed, trying not to raise the octave of her voice.

"I told you, Sarah...we'll fade." That strange mechanical voice of his had returned, and Sarah was beginning to hate the sound of it. Because when she heard that, she knew he was hiding some deeper emotion, she knew whatever they were talking about affected him. The man before her was faced with his own mortality and the thought of it made her heart break.

"You'll die." She said the words he would not and saw him wince at the term.

"I don't quite like to think of it like that."

"But that's what will happen, won't it? This whole place it will...how could I live my life knowing that..." She pressed her hands to her mouth, trying to steady her breathing. Throughout the rollercoaster of their time together all she had been concerned about was how she had been wronged. She had heard the words and the stories, but until this moment she had never truly thought about what would happen if she didn't help. If she ruined the plan then she might as well be sending him to the grave.

Jareth saw the gleam of tears in her eyes and heard the shaky breaths as the emotion took her.

"It'll be alright, Sarah. You won't have any guilt…you'll have tried your best. You won't even remember us." He tried and failed to give her a smile and convey that it would be okay. She frowned, her breath still unsteady as she digested his words.

"What do you mean?"

"I told you, we'll cease to exist…we will never have existed. To everyone in the world we'll be just a story in your book. I suppose I should be grateful for your works. They give me immortality." To his dismay his words only seemed to deepen her sorrows.

"I'll think I just dreamt this place up one day? Dreamt you up?"

"Yes."

"I don't think anyone could dream you up." She laughed almost hysterically, pressing a hand to her head. He would be gone from her life forever, whether she liked it or not, and all she could think of was that the weight of a world was resting on her shoulders. Jareth's life, rested on her.

"You'll be rid of me at least. Finally." He offered gently, taking her hand and giving her a disarming smile.

"Don't say that." She scolded quietly.

"It's what you've always wanted, Sarah." He was still trying to remain jovial even though both of them could see it was a farce. Biting her lips, Sarah shook her head, trying and searching for the right words with all her might. But she came up short, settling for a few that couldn't convey just how truly sorry she was.

"Not anymore." She whispered.

Jareth raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to look at her. She really meant it. He thought back to the day before when they had laughed and strolled through the market, seemingly without a worry in the world. Perhaps it wasn't all in his head…perhaps she had come to care for him, even if it was only within the capacity of friendship. But the girl was so aloof, so careful with her words and her gestures that he couldn't be sure.

"Why the change of heart?" He pressed, his heart seemingly stopping in anticipation. He watched her fold her arms and give a shrug.

"You're my friend. And whether I like it or not...you're the only person that really knows me. I don't want anything to happen to you." She had refused to meet his eye the whole time she spoke, and her words left him strangely wanting.

"Well, we're far from that yet." He offered, sighing as she bowed her head.

"Yet we're still too close to it." Her words seemed to be dancing on the edge of something, a revelation or a confession. He could hear the twinge of it in every syllable. He knew she had not the depth of feeling that he did, perhaps she did not care at all…but there was something there that was new. Something that he was anxious to know.

"Will you miss me?" He said quietly.

There was hesitation, but only for a few moments.

"Yes." She whispered, and she thought it was the truest answer she had ever given to him. The flash of some emotion in his eyes forced her to look away, clearing her throat. The thought of losing Jareth had brought her a strange kind of heartache, one she did not care to decipher at that moment in time. She didn't want to think about the implications of it. Before he had been the Goblin King, the nightmare and the enigma. But now…now he was just Jareth, the person who had opened her eyes to a world beyond her imagination. The thought of not remembering someone who had changed her life so completely and irrevocably dizzied her.

"I think even if I fell apart to nothing, and not even the memory of my name lingered on the wind...I'd still miss you terribly." He spoke so quietly she barely heard the words, yet they hung heavy in the air between them.

Why did they feel like a blow to her stomach? Why did it hurt so much?

Sarah took a deep breath, holding it in her lungs and trying to regain some control over the situation. As she exhaled she closed her eyes and felt herself fall back into her body. Her heart began to calm and her legs stopped shaking, finally, she began to feel herself again.

Upon opening her eyes she Jareth staring at her, a look that lingered between disappointment and confusion on his face.

"We'll be fine. It'll be fine. No point talking about things that probably won't even happen." She said firmly, forcing a smile. He didn't return it.

"Quite right. Let's take a break. I think you need one." All at once Jareth seemed to turn from something gentle and vulnerable into a force of nature. He nodded to a chair in the corner and with a snap of his fingers a table appeared with an array of food.

"You should sit down and eat." He said, his tone leaving no room for argument. Sarah frowned quizzically, thrown by the change in his demeanour.

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine." Was the only reply. Although his words did not sound unkind there was a sharpness to them that hadn't been there before.

She watched him walk towards the piano, feeling words bubbling in her chest and wondering how so much could be left unsaid. The air was thick with it, she could barely breathe. But it seemed that he was intent on ignoring her.

Looking at him now, she could hardly believe a man that was nothing short of a whirlwind would simply fade away.

He'd been with her in some shape or form since she'd wished her brother away. Hell, even before that when she found the book of the Labyrinth. He was the only constant in a life of absent mothers and distant fathers, the memories of a lonely childhood and the uncertainty of her future. He had always been there. He couldn't die. He just couldn't.

She thought that in losing him she would lose a part of herself that she didn't even know she had.

"Sarah, sit." He gently reminded her as he glanced up from the piano. She swallowed, giving him a small smile as she sat on the edge of the chair, feeling her appetite leave her.

"Sure you don't want anything?" The words were timid, hoping to give way to another conversation. But the soft shake of Jareth's head tarnished that hope.

Soon the gentle melody of the piano filled the hall and she sat back, watching Jareth play. The melody seemed to leave a wake of goose bumps against her skin as each note caressed her spine. A shaky sigh left her, marvelling at the sight of him so still. There was a slight furrow in his brow, his eyes never once leaving the ivory as his fingers danced over the keys. In the light she caught a glimpse of pointed teeth, gently biting on his lip as he was lost in trying to remember every note and beat. Watching him here, like this, without the whirlwind of motion and theatrics of his title…it was beautiful. A small part of her wished that she could keep him this way, to stop time and keep the scene before her suspended in the dust and cobwebs of their lives.

And there it was again.

A dull ache in her chest that she was so very unfamiliar with. Her hand moved to rest above her heart, feeling the beat of it and finding that it matched his song. It unnerved her.

Running her fingers through her hair she reached for the cup beside her, letting the wine coat her tongue and quieting her mind. Whatever the feeling was, she wanted to forget it. The task before her was daunting, but she would do it. She would save him.

But just for now she would listen to him play…just for now she would let the music take her and carry her away into a fantasy that died many years ago.