Today was the day.

As she opened her eyes and blinked wearily at the light, the thought hit Sarah with a force that left her breathless. It surprised her that for the briefest flash of time, she had almost forgotten. The amnesia had lasted only a few seconds, just when she was caught in that moment between dreaming and waking, a strange realm of bliss where you had no memory of your troubles or woes and merely existed as your thoughts tried to collect. Then she remembered.

Today was the day.

With a shaky breath she sat up, pushing her hair away from her face and looking around. The engagement ball was tonight. She would be thrust into Jareth's world and there would be no turning back. If she couldn't convince any of his people of that she was different, that she was kind and honest and true...well, then it would all fall to ruin. She thought it would be a difficult task considering she had a hard time convincing even herself.

A soft knock on the door sounded, and with a sigh of relief she threw back the covers and ran to open it. As she expected, Jareth stood before her, a slight frown marring his features.

"How are you?" He asked, his eyes scanning her dishevelled figure and widening just a fraction as he saw that she was clad only in a short nightgown. Sarah glanced down at herself, folding her arms over her chest shyly.

"Sorry, I slept in." She grimaced, scolding herself. She should have been up earlier to run through the plan with him again. What a great start.

To her surprise Jareth nodded in approval.

"Good. You needed as much rest as you could get. And now you must eat."

"I'm not hungry." Sarah waved him away, closing the door behind him as he entered the room.

"What a pity it is that I'm going to sit here and make sure you eat something then." He rounded on her, that same frown on his face and his eyes determined. Sarah sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead. She couldn't think of doing something as causal as eating breakfast at that moment in time. Not on what was quite possibly the most important day of her short life.

"Jareth…" she protested meekly. He heaved a sigh and on the tip of his fingers conjured a small crystal. He rolled it this way and that between his hands for a moment, seemingly trying to transfer the troubles in his fatigued mind into the sphere. As she observed his erratic fidgeting, Sarah pondered if he was quite possibly even more troubled about what lay ahead than she was.

After a few moments he seemed to remember himself, and with a clear of his throat he let the orb fall to the floor. It shattered, and in its place appeared a table and chairs with an array of food adorning it.

"Sarah. We have no time for this. Please, sit." At his final tone she closed her eyes, defeated. He watched her as she followed his command, taking the seat opposite and conjuring yet another crystal. He allowed it to roll across his palms, tossing it in the air and catching it. She pondered if it was a way of coping with stress for him, trying to find something to do with his hands while he thought. He seemed to not take any notice of her dithering as she pulled a plate towards her, completely lost in his thoughts.

For a short while the only sounds were of the scrape of her fork upon the plate and the soft chiming of the ball as Jareth rolled it across the table.

"So tonight, what will happen? What's the plan?" Sarah asked, trying to put them both at ease. The silence was stifling and unbearable. She needed him to talk to her, for some reason as of late she had begun to find the tone of his voice calming. She had tried hard not to think of the implications that knowledge brought with it.

"The dress I've ordered to be made for you has arrived, after breakfast you shall bathe and dress and then come to see me. I'll finish readying your appearance." He tossed the crystal in the air and Sarah faintly noted that it never got a chance to land as it disappeared. As she returned her gaze to him she caught the meaning of his words.

"What's that mean?" She said through a mouthful of some kind of bread. Jareth gave her a withering look.

"On today of all days could you please curb your appalling table manners?" He said curtly, and Sarah's brow twitched into a frown. He was different today. He was certainly more rude and distracted. But then she supposed that he was just scared. The thought troubled her greatly. Despite the faint fire in her belly that urged her to scold him, she chose to ignore the remark. After swallowing the morsel she tried again.

"What did you mean, you'll ready me?"

Jareth sighed, running a hand through his unruly mane.

"You don't know how to paint your face in our styles, it would do you well to look like you're attempting to immerse yourself in our culture. Same with your hair."

Despite herself, Sarah couldn't help the smile that twitched on her lips.

"You're going to do my make up?"

"Is that a problem?" He glowered at her and she held her hands up in defeat. God he was tetchy today.

"Not at all." She relented, folding her arms and sitting back in her chair.

"Good. After that…there is not much else I can do for you. Upon arriving I will announce you to the court. You will take my arm and say a few words-"

"You didn't tell me I would have to speak publicly." Sarah sat forwards all of a sudden, glaring at the man before her. That wasn't the plan. That had never been the plan.

"Well, I am telling you now. I've thought on it and it is for the best. Let everyone hear those dulcet tones of yours."

"Well thanks for sharing." She cried out, pursing her lips when he tutted and looked away. His demeanour was slowly but surely starting to rile her, and even though she tried to excuse it on the stresses of the day she thought it unfair how he was making her even more nervous than before. She glanced at him, sighing as he kept his gaze trained on her window.

"Fine, what do I say?" She murmured, following suit and looking out towards the clear sky. He gnawed on his lip thoughtfully for a moment.

"I don't know…something like, thank you for embracing me into your world. I hope to speak to everyone individually…finish on how very much you adore me, perhaps." He turned back to her and gave a half-hearted smile, and finally she felt herself begin to relax. It seemed that that was all she had been searching for in the sea of self-doubt and nervous energy. She just wanted him to at least pretend that it would be all right, even if they were both imagining the worst. She returned the smile with a contemplative nod.

"Be nice, be polite and sing your praises. Got it."

"Good….good…then we shall open the dancing, just like we practiced. After that you are free to mingle." He stood from the chair, slowly walking to her crystal decanter as he thought. She raised an eyebrow as he poured himself a healthy portion of wine, taking a long draught from it. It wasn't even midday she contemplated, mildly scandalised. She really would have to speak to him about this little problem.

"And you'll stay by my side for the night, yes?" She called over, placing her thumb in her mouth and gnawing on it gently.

Jareth exhaled, observing her small frame. She chewed on her thumb like a small mouse, her eyes darting nervously about the room as she waited for his reply. It made him feel rather awful. When he had awoke that morning it felt like the weight of the moon and the sun had come crashing down on him. He had thought that his plan had been good if somewhat reckless, but now it was time to embark upon the journey he found himself…dare he say it, frightened. He knew he was being abrupt, downright rude even, but it came spilling from him uncontrollably as he tried to find an outlet for his thumping heart. And looking at Sarah he felt an immense guilt. He was scaring her.

He bowed his head and walked towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Yes. I'll be right beside you." He said, as gently and warmly as he could. Yet he cocked his head in surprise as she reached up and covered his hand with her own, clutching at it in some sort of attempt to keep her roving mind anchored. He hardly minded, the warmth of her palm kept him from spiralling into the multitude of horrible outcomes the ball might gift them.

"Thank you, Sarah. For everything." He murmured, and she couldn't help but smile at the honesty in his words.

"It's been a pleasure, Your Majesty."

He smiled back; patting her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

"I do have a little surprise planned, as thanks of course. But I'll gift it to you tomorrow." He handed the goblet of wine to her, raising his brow expectantly. As Sarah took it she recoiled slightly at the strong smell of it.

"Thank you. But it's a bit early for drinking though, don't you think?" She scolded lightly. Jareth shrugged a little, unable to stop the mock theatrics as he gave her a grave look.

"The day will be long and the night arduous. I suggest you drink up." He whispered into her ear, smiling as she took a large gulp.

After bathing Sarah padded into her room, her skin flushed from the steaming water. A bath had been just the thing she was after it seemed. She had spent a great deal of it immersing herself underwater, watching the tendrils of her hair float above her in some vain attempt to reach the surface. She had wondered long and hard on just how she had ended up in such a situation. It was a marvel to think that all of this had started on that fateful night when she had wished Toby away.

At the thought of her little brother she felt her heart clench almost painfully. How long had it been since she had seen him now? And her father? A small part of her felt ashamed, because in the midst of the planning and preparing she had forgotten them, even if it was just for a moment. She wondered what they were thinking, would they imagine that she had run away? Or that she was hurt? But the truth hurt more than she could ever imagine. They probably wouldn't notice. She was terrible at keeping in contact with them, and hiding away for weeks at a time was hardly out of character for her. They probably didn't even know anything was wrong. She let out a ragged sigh, cursing herself for being so selfish, for being such a bad sister and daughter. But she allowed the self-pity for only a second. Because the quicker she could aid Jareth in his plight, the quicker she could return home. And she would be triumphant. She vowed it.

Her mind seemed to stutter a little at the thought of the King. Jareth was a strange creature, which was something she had always known. But the strangest thing was that she somehow found herself not minding the things that used to enrage her. Now when he made curt remarks or dry quips she found herself battling a smile, not quelling a rage that had so often sparked. He had somehow become her friend, and that pleased her. But now…now she found her smile lingering a little too long when he bid her goodnight. She found herself looking forward above all else to the inevitable moment of their greeting in the morning. She looked to him for comfort. And why? Was she really so susceptible to warm words and fond looks? Was she really that much of a simpering fool?

With a scowl she shook her head. She was being foolish. He was the Goblin King. He was her friend, yes, but that was where she drew the line. No matter how sweet and kind he was to her, that was a line that she would fortify with a wall that Satan himself could not break.

An icy breeze hit her wet skin, drawing her back into reality.

Shivering, she searched for the promised dress Jareth had mentioned and raised her brow as a swath of dark fabric resting on her bed caught her eye. Clutching her towel to her, she walked over, tilting her head at the bundle. It was encased in some kind of tissue paper, so fine that it looked as if her breath could tear it apart should she blow on it. So this was her battle armour, she thought. It was funny, not since her childhood had she played dress up and pretended to be some Queen or figure from long ago. Little did she know that one day she would be living her stories. What a lovely little fool she was.

Glancing around, Sarah carefully pulled back the sheets of paper to reveal a lacy dress. She picked it up letting it unfurl before her, a gentle gasp escaping her lips. It was certainly beautiful, that was her first thought. It reached the floor in a sea of black lace, yet the colour of it was the most striking thing she found. It was blacker than anything she had ever seen, so much so that it almost hurt her eyes as they tried to comprehend it. She couldn't fathom a time that she had ever seen such a thing and found it almost profound that the colour black could have so much depth to it. With a soft swallow she set herself in determination. This was her armour, as unorthodox as it was, and she would play her part.

It was time to go to war.

Today was the day.

Oh Gods today was the day.

Jareth pressed his forehead against his hands with a groan as he sat in his study, trying to steady his pounding heart. Today was the day and it no longer mattered if she was ready for it or not. What would be would be.

With a sniff he sat up, trying to regain some control over his racing mind. He remembered the events of court, and even though he hadn't attended them in a very long time the memory of it was clear. The musicians would always play the same songs; the people would say the same things and the night would end the same way. It had become so tiring and almost boring in the end that he had stopped going altogether. It had happened slowly at first. He would miss an event here and there, sometimes forgetting about it and sometimes purposefully hiding away in his tower. But soon he found that a month had gone by when he had spoken to no one and seen no one. Then that month somehow turned into a year. Soon it turned into many. And he knew everyone whispered about their absent King and the way he had gone half mad over some child or other that had beaten his Labyrinth. It almost made him laugh at how little they actually knew.

Yet the one thing he could count on about the events of court was that it would be predictable. If Sarah was any other girl they could have waltzed through the night with not a care in the world, avoiding this person and seeking out that…yet she was a human. She was his intended. And he had no idea what to expect.

Suddenly the world he once knew seemed unfamiliar, and it frightened the very bones of him. They could cast her out before she even opened that pretty little mouth of hers, they could treat her as some form of commodity, ogling at her in ways she would not like. They might think him weak and a fool, they might think her dangerous and God forbid if someone tried to harm a single hair upon that lovely head he would have them slaughtered. The loss of control over the situation sent him into a panic, and he realised that he had done a shoddy job to prepare her for it. Being at court was a battle, and the only weapon you had was your tongue. The whole night, if you truly listened, was about the combat of words. He had honed his craft so delicately over so many years that no one dared cross him when it came to thinly veiled insults anymore. Yet Sarah...poor innocently sweet Sarah. She had a temper. By the Gods above and below he knew that. And if someone tried to insult her...well, he hoped she would have enough sense to carry it with grace. And better yet bite back with some subtle sardonic comment of her own…but Sarah Williams had never been very subtle.

For a moment he thought himself a stupid man. This was his grand scheme? His grand plot to save his life rested all on one little human girl with a wicked tongue? If she said the wrong thing to the wrong person then she would be ruined. Oh God, he was a fool.

But yet...she was clever. Cleverer than he ever imagined she would be, and she certainly had a braver heart than he did. If she could pull this off then he would bow at her altar and worship her as a deity for the rest of his life. He vowed it. And this vow was one that he would keep. But if he thought about it intently enough and had the gall to admit it...she had already changed someone's mind…she had changed his. Before her the night had been dark, he had seen the world as a treacherous terrible place that would seek only to destroy you. It would set out to scar you and hurt you, and only those who could take the pains of it with strength and cunning would survive. Yet Sarah had never seen it like that...she saw the light and the love. He had seen it in her painting of the Labyrinth and he saw it in every hopeful smile and tinkling laugh. The world to him was golden when she laughed, true and beaming. It made him feel a little bit of hope and she made him want to be a good man. Sarah Williams, of all the people in the world, had the power to turn a King's head, to fill his heart with dreams of being good and he marvelled at it. If she could change a soul as ruined as his...well, he thought she could do it to anyone.

"Thanks for the dress." A timid voice reached his ears and Jareth realised that he had been so lost in his musings that he hadn't even noticed the subject of his thoughts enter the room. He glanced up, knowing even before he saw her that she would render him speechless.

He had dreamed of the way the black lace would fit against her pale flesh, more than he cared to admit. Yet nothing could prepare him for such a fantasy made real. The way it fit her...it looked as if her body had been doused in ink, the lace seemingly flowing from every curve and form. His hands longed to caress the luxurious garment, and in that moment he remembered why he had chosen such a colour for her. Her skin had always been pale; it reminded him of freshly fallen snow or the petals of a flower, glorious in its ethereal beauty. The darkness of the gown, a rare fabric from the far reaches of the Northern mountains, contrasted so sharply to her that it looked as if the night sky was draped over her delicate skin. And as she shifted, ever so slightly, he could see the stars themselves dripping from the fabric. She took a trembling breath at his scrutiny and he nearly lost himself at the sight of her bust heaving with it. The way the bodice clung to her, made of a thousand strands of lace woven so tightly that it looked like spiders silk, was some sort of sweet agony. The low neckline afforded her ample cleavage, yet the long sleeves of the dress still allowed her some kind of modesty. Layer upon layer of lace swathed her hips and covered her legs, resting in a pool at her feet. It was so very unlike the gown she had worn on her first venture to the Labyrinth, all frills and chiffon, white and voluminous. No…that dress had been for the girl she was. This dress, seemingly made purely to tempt him, was for the woman that stood before him.

In that moment he wanted to know what it felt like to be immersed in her, and for a split second he had a half a mind just to take her and see. But no…for her he would be a good man.

Yet even so, he didn't think it fair for her to torture him with such a sight.

"Christ, well say something." She murmured, furrowing her brow at the floor. He stood, trying to return to his body and take control of a situation he knew he was sorely losing. How could one woman wield so much power? He could not bring it in himself to let her see just how much of a hold she had over him in a dress like that. It would be the ruin of him if she knew.

"It'll do." He said calmly, praying that she could not hear the thrumming beat of his heart. He watched her falter a moment, unsure to take the comment as praise or dismissal. In the end she sighed, gesturing to the gown.

"Well, can't say you didn't try and make me look pretty." She gave a half-hearted smile and Jareth felt his heart break at the sight of it. He opened his mouth to admonish her, to tell her just how very beautiful she did look. Damn it how she always looked. But the moment was lost as she spied a number of brushes on a small table before a stool.

"So you have the duty of painting my face today…it looks like you've got all the right tools, I guess." She glanced up expectantly, waiting for him to join her.

"Well, get to it soldier. You have to make me presentable remember?" With a cock of her brow she motioned him over, gathering her skirts to position herself when she sat. As she did Jareth cursed himself at yet another moment lost to time when he could have been a good man, more importantly when he could have been an honest one.

Yet couldn't help but chuckle at her authoritative glare, bowing his head and filing the moment away under his many regrets.

"At your beck and call as always, my Captain."

Sitting before Jareth, her skirt bundled in her lap, Sarah eyed the array of brushes warily.

"So you use these all on yourself then?" She asked, taking in the carved mahogany handles and soft white bristles. Jareth scowled at her.

"You're a funny one today aren't you? No. A woman, a woman of the court at that, has to have much delicacy in the way she presents herself."

Sarah nodded thoughtfully, watching as he dabbed a small brush into a pot of black powder.

"So-"

"Close your eyes." He interrupted her, satisfied when she obeyed. A soft hand guided her chin towards the light and she felt the gentle caress of the brush against her lids.

"So is it much different than the way I do my make up anyway or...?" With her eyes closed her senses seemed to be heightened; she could feel every shift of his body and smell the musky scent of the powder. The faint tickle of his breath ghosted her lips and made it made her shiver. What was wrong with her? Why was she acting like a hormone-riddled teenager again? She thought it almost embarrassing really, the way such a simple thing made her heart skip a beat. Even when focusing on each stroke of the bristles against her skin she found that the sensation caused her cheeks to blush.

"Well...the designs women use here are rather more elaborate than what you're used to I suppose." He was murmuring. Sarah could picture him concentrating intently on every curve and line of her face, dabbing the brush here and there in an effort to mimic the designs he knew.

"I could have done it you know."

"Really?" He bit back sceptically. Yet she could hear the laughter in his voice as he moved to the other eye, gently stroking the brush upwards towards her brow.

"Yes. I've been doing it for years." She snuck a peek at him as the brush left her skin, smiling a little at the sight she was gifted with. He had rolled his sleeves up, his gloved hands hovering over the rainbow of colours before him. Her lips parted a little as she realised that she had never seen his arms bare before. Always he had sleeves and coats and all manner of fashions covering them. It was strange just how normal he looked, slim and lean and ever so pale. He gave a slight hum of triumph as his fingers reached for a pot filled with shimmering crimson powder, a satisfied nod following his choice.

"So have I." As he turned to her she closed her eyes, unable to stop the gentle chuckle that fell from her.

"This is ridiculous when you think about it. The Goblin King is doing my make up and trying to make me pretty." She went to shake her head at the thought but stilled as Jareth grasped her chin lightly to stop the movement.

"Be still, woman." He scolded quietly.

"Sorry." She whispered back, trying not to grimace at her clumsy action. After a moment she heard him take a breath, resuming the gentle brush strokes.

"And I'm not trying. I meant what I said yesterday. You are beautiful…very beautiful at that. I'm simply decorating a very lovely face." The quiet words seemed to make her blush, and Sarah wondered if he could see the evidence of his flattery across her face.

"It's still strange." She sighed, trying to control the heat in her face.

"I would agree. It seems you have much material to go about writing a sequel to that book of yours."

"I'll get to writing it."

"Please don't." He muttered, and she couldn't help but laugh. After a moment he joined her, stopping in his actions as he took joy in the one moment of relief he had had in a long while.

"I thought it was good, despite everything." Sarah smiled, thinking of the inconsequential thing that had amounted to her sitting before him.

"It was very well written, I'll give you that. Although I confess that I never did finish it." The humour seemed to drain from Jareth as he said the words, and Sarah couldn't help the crease that appeared in her brow.

"Really? Why?" At her question Jareth stilled. He remembered turning the pages, her innermost thoughts and feelings displayed to him so brazenly on the page. It was a strange thing, to recount the events he knew so well from some other person's perspective. He had put the book down after it threw him back into the memory of the ballroom and the moments they had shared there. He knew what came after that. It seemed that he couldn't bring himself to see just what she was thinking in that final meeting when he offered himself to her, body and soul. The thought of it was unbearable.

"I'm a busy man. Now hush. I have to finish this momentous task."

Sarah shrugged at his good natured jibe, seemingly unaware of the turmoil in his mind as she allowed him to reposition her face towards the light.

"I could get used to this you know, someone making me up every day."

"Yes, well we don't want to make it a habit do we?"

"Of course not, Your Majesty."

Silence followed for a few moments and Sarah was lulled into a strange sort of ease at the gentle strokes. It was all too easy to let her body go limp and allow his hand to turn her head this way and that. It was a few minutes later however; when she felt what she thought must have been a bolt of lightening roll through her.

A soft pressure against her lips caused her eyes to snap open and her heart to leap. At first she thought he had kissed her, her mind going into overdrive at the thought. But as her eyes opened, her brow rose as she realised what had happened. Jareth was still sitting before her, but this time his eyes were trained on the shape of her lips. A finger gently sweeping some kind of rouge across the soft flesh, but that was not what surprised her.

He wasn't wearing his gloves.

She wasn't sure why that made her heart tremble so very much.

It seemed that he barely noticed her wide eyed stare as his thumb blended a deep crimson into the skin, inclining his head as he finished.

"I think, my lady, you are just about presentable now." His smile faltered as he noticed her gaze and began shifting uncomfortably, glancing about the room.

"What?"

"You're not wearing your gloves?" She whispered, her brow drawing together as he looked down at his hands.

"No, I'm afraid I'm not...I'm sorry, does the notion of my skin making contact with yours upset you?" He said carefully, beginning to wipe away traces of make up on his skin with a small cloth. Sarah shrugged, still half in a daze.

"No, I just...I don't think I've ever seen your hands before."

Jareth found himself unsure of what to say to that and looked at the pale form of his fingers before reaching for his gloves. It seemed that he could hardly handle her scrutinising gaze for more than a moment. Yet a shy voice stopped him.

"Can I see?"

He hesitated a moment, about to scowl and deny her request. But at the sight of the slight smile on her lips and curious gaze he sighed, holding out his hands. He was a fool for her and she knew it. Yet he could hardly stay mad as she gently guided his hands to lay atop hers, her fingers trailing gently across his palms.

"Anything out of the ordinary?" He murmured, trying not to show just how her gentle touch made his heart ache. She glanced up briefly at him, her eyes twinkling with some kind of wonderment.

"Not at all. Quite the contrary...I half expected you to have claws or something."

He couldn't help but scoff at that.

"I apologise for any disappointment."

She shook her head softly.

"You have piano playing fingers as my dad would say...no wonder you're so good at it." She held up her palm, encouraging him to place his own against hers and admired the slim length of fingers when he did. It made hers look tiny in comparison. In truth she knew she must look half crazed, marvelling over such a small thing, but it seemed she couldn't help herself.

Somehow it felt like another layer had been stripped away from him, one less boundary between them and one more thing that made him seem more real. More human.

"Is everything in order?" He asked quietly, his eyes almost emotionless and so very guarded. She retreated from her daze, smiling bashfully.

"Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine." She closed her hands around his, giving them a tender squeeze. He was so very unsure of what her bizarre antics actually pertained to. But whatever the peculiar creature was thinking, he liked it. For a moment he found himself gazing at her, and what a strange thing it was to have her gaze back at him like that. His mind thrummed with so many thoughts. What was she thinking? What was all this alluding to? Why was she being so kind? But in his search for answers he came up short, choosing instead to marvel at just how golden the calm was. The moment was ephemeral but nothing less than miraculous as she looked upon him with not a trace of distrust or discontent.

But then she looked away, choosing instead to focus on the faint shimmers of her skirts. Trying to steady his breathe, Jareth gave a quick glance to the clock behind them and found a ragged sigh being torn from his throat.

Still grasping her hands he met her eye, a determined sort of look lingering in them.

"I think it's time." He whispered and she bit her lip. The stark white of her teeth against the blood red rouge enchanted him for just a moment. But he sobered as he looked beneath the smoky haze of glistening grey powder around her eyes and saw what he knew was fright.

"Will you stay with me?" Was her whispered reply.

"Always."