The Kiss Of Starlight

by TheWanderingStar

As years since Sarah's time in the Labyrinth pass her by, she finds it difficult to resume a normal life and accept that the Labyrinth is lost to her forever. But she should know better than that. There is always one who will watch over her. One who will never leave her. (Rating will increase to M in later chapters.)

18. The Ball - Part 1

A/N: So I know it's been an unforgivably long time since I've updated, but these next two chapters are absolute monsters when it comes to the word count! I originally wanted just one long chapter to upload, but it kind of took a life of its own and ended splitting itself into two. I hope you enjoy, and please do leave a review when you leave to let me know what you think! I appreciate your feedback more than you can ever know. (Just a little warning, there is a tiny bit of explicit language in this chapter)

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Sarah had never been the centre of attention in her life. Sure, she had been for a few precious years, when she was young and adorable with a funny lisp. But for the most part she had learned to live in the shadows, rarely seen and rarely heard. Never had she relied on anyone, especially when the people she met seemed to flit in and out of her life faster than she could blink. She answered to no one. She belonged to no one. Sometimes she thought she had rather liked it that way. But there had always been a small battle in her heart; something reminding her that it hadn't always been like that. There had once been a time when she had lived in the light. And every so often the distant memory of it would seep into her conscience and bring with it a yearning she had so often repressed.

Back then; when she was young and adorable, she had thrived on the attention of her peers. She would often pull anyone who would listen, stranger or not, into an audience for her nonsense one-woman plays. She loved the eyes upon her, entertained and entranced at her performances. She would recite poetry, fumble through poorly pronounced Shakespearean plays, and on the rare occasion she would burst into song. She was hardly a nightingale, but still, her audience would smile and clap, cooing over what a special young girl she was. But deep down she knew she wasn't after the attention or the praise…she just wanted to make people smile. She lived for the moment when she would look into their eyes and see their acceptance, to see how happy she had made them in that moment. She wanted to make them love her.

She remembered pulling her mother and father along to sit on the couch in their living room, taking her place before them with as much poise as she could muster. She always knew her mark where to stand, it was right next to a faint purple blotch on the cream carpet that had been there for years. She knew it was an old wine stain her mother had made after her father had picked her up and kissed her just a little too ferociously. But that was back when they were in love, and that was a memory that Sarah did not care to recall.

But she remembered them sitting, hands entwined and heads inclined as she performed a little ballet routine, humming her own tune to accompany her. And the way they had looked at her…her father standing and whistling through his fingers, her mother's smile shining in the light as she glowed at her little girl. Their eyes had been filled with so much warmth and so much pride that she thought her heart would burst.

She remembered knowing that in that moment she was their world, the only one they saw, the only one that they wished to see.

She remembered just how very loved she felt.

But then she got older. Then it wasn't so cute anymore.

Her mother grew distant, less enamoured with her daughter's antics. Linda seemed to float through the house in a daze, distracted and seemingly never satisfied with her surroundings. Even when she looked at Sarah there was something missing. A long lost regret or a pondering curiosity took the place of the unbridled love she had become accustomed to. It had filled her young mind with turmoil when she started to notice the way her father would give anguished glances at the barely there woman, willing Linda to come back to him. And as time went on and things worsened, it seemed that they had all but forgotten their daughter in their battle to salvage their marriage. But still, like the little fool she was, she tried to make them smile again like they had done so often before. She thought she had achieved it once too, when her mother crept into her room late at night. It had been the winter when it happened, the night seeping through the frosted glass of her window and the chill of the air whispering through her room. Linda had sat on the edge of her bed and stroked her hair, asking if Sarah could read her a story. Even though half asleep, Sarah had thrown herself into the task with great abandon, re-enacting the voices and moving her hands in the air with wild gestures. When she finished she looked up, seeing a wide beaming smile from her mother.

"You really are my special girl, aren't you?" She had whispered, a finger tracing a dimple in her chubby cheek. Sarah had closed her eyes, leaning into the touch that she had so often craved and missed.

"Sometimes I think you're too much like me." The words were so quiet they had almost been lost to the young girl, and upon opening her eyes she found nothing but an empty space before her and a silently closing door.

Her mother had left the next morning.

It was a strange time after that when her father seemed to become somewhat of a ghost. Sarah would often return from school to find an empty home and a note on the fridge explaining his absence. She had swallowed the discomfort it brought her, choosing instead to give a beaming smile and clutching hug to him when he eventually returned. But when her father looked into her eyes she could always tell that he wasn't really seeing her. As he untangled himself from her gangly limbs he would smile absently and pat her on the head, moving through the house with his phantom touch that never seemed to turn into anything solid. Yes, it seemed very much like he had forgotten her.

He got happier Sarah supposed, when he introduced her to Karen. He had led her into the living room, and there she sat with her strange lipstick and bright hair, an apprehensive smile on her face. Later on Sarah would realise that she was occupying the same space where her mother had used to sit. It had made her uncomfortable and her spine itch uncontrollably, but yet she was still so young and she didn't quite understand why it all felt so wrong. But at the sight of the earnest look her father gave her, Sarah thought that just for him, she would try. So later that night, with a flourish and a curtsey, Sarah stood before the two, deciding she would try and worm her way into her new stepmother's heart. She would make her love her. She took her mark, right by the wine stain; she had even brought a mask to play the role of the monster. She had done everything she had done before, flouncing about and growling through the lines, whispering when need be. As she finished she took off the mask with a flourish, beaming a shining smile and waiting for the two before her to follow suit.

But Karen had scowled at her and looked to her father in some sort of befuddled confusion. As she turned back to her, Sarah felt her smile start to droop, her hands clutching at the cardboard mask as she swallowed.

"How old are you, dear?" She asked, her eyebrows coming together in that same scornful expression that Sarah would grow to loathe.

She could still remember the way she had bowed her head and let her mask fall to the floor, biting her lip frantically in a struggle to hold back her furious tears. Never in her life had she felt humiliation like it. She remembered how her cheeks had burned with the scorn of Karen's gaze. She had looked to her father, hoping to see him with that same approving smile she had always known. But this time his brow was furrowed in the realisation that he shared with his daughter. It was over. His little girl had to grow up.

Karen had grasped her father's hand and led him into the kitchen, talking in hushed tones and whispers. A few moments later she heard him laugh. Really and truly laugh. She recalled that she hadn't heard that sound in a very long time. But the thought that seemed to linger still was that she hadn't been the one to gift it to him.

That was the day that she realised she was no longer the centre of someone's world. The day when the most loved child became unimportant.

Then Toby came along and it felt like everyone had forgotten that she existed altogether. She was the one who once had chubby cheeks with a messy tuft of hair and impossibly large eyes. And if her brother so much as blinked on his own then Karen and her father would smile and applaud, much like she remembered her own mother had done to her. She would glance over, pretending not to care as they fawned over the child, exclaiming their pride ever so loudly. That was when she wondered if her own mother would still like to see her perform...and then she'd remember in one earth shattering moment that her mother hadn't called in weeks.

That was when she knew that the most loved child was not just unimportant. She was invisible. And as time went on she would often ponder on it…it was a funny thing, to be invisible.

And so standing before Jareth, in a small dark chamber just beyond the ballroom, Sarah found his gaze on her to be almost remarkably strange. Despite the myriad of ill feelings that he had caused her, there had always been a strange light in the back of his eyes. Something soft and appreciating…something that reminded her of the memories long ago. She wondered just how was it when Jareth looked at her that she could tell he saw only her. His eyes seemed to spark into life when she entered a room and it was all at once both terrifying and enthralling. As much as she wished to vanish back into the shadows, he wouldn't allow it. Sometimes all she wanted was for him to leave her be, to give her some kind of solace and reprieve. But she could see it. In every faint smile he gave and every brief touch, he thought she was important. A little voice told her that it was an unhealthy fixation, something dangerous and alien…but she couldn't quite shake the faint tremor in her heart when she thought that to him she could never quite manage to be invisible.

"Are you ready, Sarah?" He murmured, his voice capturing her roving mind and towing her back towards the present. She glanced up, trying to stop her lip from trembling.

"Yes. I'm ready."

And so with a steeled look in his eye and a determined nod, Jareth placed his hand on her arm and led her into the light.

---

There was music. That was the first thought Sarah had. She couldn't hear anything but the music, it seemed to surround her, making it hard to breathe. It was different than the music she had heard Jareth play though. This seemed ancient and almost impossibly old. Something that reminded her of old Celtic and Gaelic songs she had heard long ago. As her eyes grew accustomed to the new light she felt her breath hitch in her throat.

She remembered the ball she had seen in her peach induced dream, all white marble and crystal, but despite the debauchery it had had this veneer of innocence shrouding it. It was nothing like the room before her.

This room was carved purely from black stone, lit by a thousand candles seemingly suspended by magic on the ceiling. Sarah looked with wide eyes to the only other light source, a huge hole carved into the roof, casting a wide beam of moonlight against the floor that glistened like diamonds against the polished stone. Only by the gift of the this light could she see pillars shrouded in shadows about the room, scattered with no logical or discernible pattern. If she squinted she thought she could make out tendrils of vines and flowers crawling and clutching around the columns. Glimpses of scarlet caught her eye as she spied cushions and low couches, all cloaked in crimson fabric. Each seat and cushion faced inwards to the glistening black dance floor lighted by the light of the moon. It was all so very…sensual. It was nothing like she expected.

But the thing that shocked her most was that it was empty.

She glanced to Jareth, stood in his flowing black shirt and breeches, allowing her face to contort in confusion. For a split second she wondered if it was a trick, some kind of challenge that only he understood. But before she could open her mouth, he raised his arms, a wide beaming smile on his face.

"People of my realm, members of my court, come into the light and let your King gaze upon you." His voice boomed, and Sarah wondered if the haphazard pillars were actually strategically placed, as his voice seemed to reverberate from each one and over the room. Almost like an amplifier of sorts.

She swallowed, her eyes searching the shadows as she waited with baited breath for the arrival of the court. Slowly but surely, she could see figures shifting from the darkness, like some strange creatures of the night answering the call of the stars. She could hear the low whisper of gowns and skirts and coats as they emerged from the shadows to stand beneath the skylight, bathed in the light of the moon. Sarah heard Jareth give a low appraising chuckle as he saw the crowd, but she could only drink them in. She marvelled at how not only were her surroundings different to her dreams, but so were the people. The men all wore dark clothing, scarlets and emeralds, blues darker than the deepest pits of the ocean. But the women…Sarah thought her gown almost embarrassingly modest in comparison to their garb. Dresses with necklines so low in glistening golds and shimmering silvers reached her eye, she swore she had spotted one woman with a slit in her skirt so high that one wrong move could expose her modesty for the world to see. But the way they all held themselves seemed so graceful, so elegant, so at ease with their sexuality. They were beautiful and they knew it.

Before she could linger anymore on the thought, Jareth bowed low before them and she followed his lead with what she hoped was a graceful curtsey. They rose and watched the crowd reciprocate the gesture, and as they stood it seemed that they simply observed their King in silence for a moment. Just when Sarah thought it was beginning to become uncomfortable, a slow a ripple of laughter rang through the crowd, breaking into a rapturous applause. Jareth laughed heartily, nodding to them all.

"Well, I suppose you know why I have called you all here to this glorious occasion."

A murmur ran through the crowd, and she could almost hear the gaze shift to her.

All at once Sarah found her breath stolen away by the sheer force of a hundred eyes on her at once, all of them scrutinising, all of them judging. It was odd she realised, the way the hairs on the nape of your neck would stand on end and your spine would tingle just so. Suddenly she forgot everything, how to stand, how to walk, how to breathe...none of it felt natural anymore. Did she always blink so much? Was her breath always so loud? Her eyes did not quite know where to rest. Did she look to the ground, betraying how shy and meek she was feeling? Or did she rest them above it all, to the stars in the visible sky like she prayed to deities she didn't even believe in. In the end she realised she could do nothing but stare back.

And all she could hear were whispers. So many whispers surrounding her and crawling over her, like spiders looking for some way to bury under her skin and take root in her heart. But the worst thing was that she knew what they were whispering.

It was her name.

Sarah felt her mouth run dry.

God, she couldn't do this. Her jaw started to twitch as her eyes flicked frantically from person to person, trying to understand the vague resentment in their eyes. So many furrowed brows and confused faces...she knew what they were thinking. So this is the human. This is the child that our King shall wed. This is the enemy.

They all looked so sure of that. So much so that she began to wonder…maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was the enemy.

A soft tug on her hand made her look up and straight into the eyes of Jareth. It was only then that she realised he had spoken, he had said her name. This was her cue, but oh God she had no words. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth, her throat impossibly dry. She was about to turn and flee, to run as far away as possible and never look back. But a flash of something in his eyes stopped her. He was begging her. He was pleading with her to say something and she felt a deep shame flood through her. That strange mismatched gaze she had become so fond of was almost as scared as hers. But he had his jaw steeled and his grip tight. He was ready. He was prepared.

She would not fail him.

With a small shake of her head she turned back towards the crowd, clearing her throat gently to remember the words she had been rehearsing all day.

"I thank you all, for allowing me safe passage into this world. I thank you for your kindness. I thank you for your open hearts and minds. I am not ignorant of the past our two species share...nor am I dismissive. But I will endeavour to show you that I mean no harm, no ill wishes, and no hurt to any of you. I am here because I..."

What did she say? Her words formed a tangle in her throat as her mind worked frantically. She had rehearsed and rehearsed in her head what she wanted to say, but she should have known that when the time came the words would leave her. A hundred eyes were still fixed on her, delicate murmurs rippling through the crowd. The silence of it all rolled through her body like thunder, the spit and hiss of the fires around her like lightening. And then she looked to Jareth. He had his eyes scanning the people before him with a sharp amusement that was tinged with a faint disdain in his eyes that she thought he did well to conceal. Yet she saw that his brow had furrowed just a little when she stopped, silently praying for her to continue on.

It was strange to see him before a crowd…he looked different somehow. His back was straight and his chin held high, looking regal in every sense of the word. The charisma and charm he seemed to exude was almost palpable, like some strange aura that sucked everyone in. Without even talking to anybody, Sarah knew that these people loved their King. The way their faces broke into smiles when he gazed upon them, applauding as he bowed low to them. Jareth was the only narrow connection she had with any of these people, so perhaps it could be a starting ground. If he was the one reason they had to smile then he had to be hers too.

"I am here because of this man. He is your King, and a fine one at that."

"Hear hear!" A voice called from the crowd, and a strange ripple followed as people repeated it. Sarah gave a shaky smile. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jareth look to her, a shadow of surprise on his face. She was going off script and he knew it.

"I am here because...I love this man. I love the very soul of him and he loves mine just as deeply. Despite our different lives and species we have found a moment of unity, and we wish to celebrate that with you all here tonight."

Jareth felt his chest rise and fall, trying to calm himself. Clever girl. What a very clever girl to pledge herself to him like that. How could they fault a poor little fool in love? It made her seem sweet, naive, innocent maybe. But more than that it was no threat. She was just a girl in love. Just why hadn't he thought of it? All at once he spotted a gentle smile on a few of the women, a smile or two from the men even. For one shining moment he wondered why he had ever doubted her.

But then he saw the eyes of the crowd shift to him. Some contemplative, some accusing. He fought the urge to close his eyes and sigh. It dawned on him that he knew what they were thinking. It was a strange enough concept for a King to have any thought or care towards his wife besides mild affection. Certainly not love. What King and Queen had ever loved? What weak man would marry for love? Is that what they thought him now, did they think him weak? But as he caught a glimpse of a scowl or two amongst the people he realised that it was so much worse than that.

They thought him a traitor.

How dare he fall for a human girl? Sure, keep her, marry her and pillage her womb for as many offspring as his heart desired…that would have been hard enough to get the judgemental wretches before him to understand. But overall it would have been a good reason. One they would have come to understand, especially if it meant saving their own sorry hides. But to tear apart a realm for the sake of love? The words he thought so clever for a moment now haunted him. They had tripped so lightly from her tongue, empty and meaningless that they had caused an unspeakable dagger of pain to his chest. She had saved herself with those words, and yet somehow she had condemned him.

What a stupid girl.

"I look forward to speaking with you all very much. So please, enjoy the night, enjoy the wine."

As Jareth's thoughts returned to sanity, he caught the end of her speech and realised that the crowd was silent, unsure as they looked to their King for guidance.

"Well, I personally could never deny the request of a pretty girl. You heard her, go forth, be drunk and be merry." He smiled lightly as a small titter ran through the people and they bowed low to their King. After he reciprocated with a small nod, the musicians started playing their instruments.

The crowd began to back away from the moonlit circle, retreating to the edges of the floor to watch the first dance. Aside from a few lingering onlookers, Jareth and Sarah were very much alone.

He turned to her slowly, about to open his mouth and tell her of just what a grave thing she'd done. But the sight of her as she let out a long low breath, her eyes closed and hands threading through her hair made him pause.

As she opened her eyes he couldn't help a reluctant smile as the flames caught the emerald hues in them.

"How did I do?" She said hurriedly, her face flushed with adrenaline. He should tell her, he should scold her for being so callous with her words. When would she ever learn that something she thought would be so inconsequential had consequences?...But he was a coward. And he had no want to crush her false joy. Not tonight. So instead he sniffed and gave an approving nod.

"Very eloquent."

She held her hands out, glancing around.

"And?"

"It was good...yes, it was very good." Even though he had tried to keep a light lilt in his voice it seemed he failed miserably. The sight of her smile dropping and her eyes dimming told him as much. She heaved a heavy sigh, running a hand through her hair.

"What's wrong? What did I do?" She said timidly, flinching as she awaited his response, as if she feared being struck by his words. Jareth swallowed. She had tried so hard and she had done so well. Eloquent and graceful in her first impression, he was so very proud of her in that moment when the words came flowing from her like poetry. He couldn't bear to ruin her confidence in that moment. She needed all she could get.

"Nothing at all. Now, we must dance." He grasped her hand, threading it around his elbow and gave it a reassuring pat. This would be his burden to deal with.

---

The dance was smooth, graceful and more importantly, just as they had rehearsed. Sarah closed her eyes, letting the music take her into Jareth's arms and sway softly with it. The crowd was silent as they did, only the strange tinkling orchestra to accompany them. There were a few moments when she noticed that he did not draw her in as tightly as he had done during their practices, holding her at arms length. But she thought not much of it, merely shrugging it off as nerves. As the dance finished the bowed to one another, and before she could turn to smile at him on a job well done, he had disappeared into the politely applauding crowds.

Her mind seemed to stutter as the sight of him vanished, her mouth gently falling open. Just where was he going? Why was he abandoning her? As the orchestra picked up again Sarah accepted a goblet that looked remarkably like it was made of pure diamond from a passing waiter, a sparkling black liquid as it's contents. She took a small sip to calm her racing heart and for a brief moment marvelled at how very much it tasted like bitter chocolate. After one more earnest glance around for the absent King she took a shuddering breath. So she was on her own. Her mind harked back to how it had always been that way, the sly voice in her head reminding her that this was the reason she belonged to the shadows. Despite everything that was said, in the end you could rely on no one but yourself. With a deep breath to quell her rage she glanced around, taking in the people and all their finery. They were all so very beautiful. She supposed that that was a trait all Fae shared. And they all had that same look in their eyes.

Distrust.

---

They were watching him. All of them. Everyone had their eyes following his every step and every breath he took. How had he used to be so familiar with it, going about his business and not caring what a single one of them thought? Was he really so cavalier in his youth? But he supposed things were different now.

He plucked a goblet of some liqueur or other from a passing tray, tipping his head back and finishing it in one gulp. He knew it probably looked strange, that the King had abandoned his future Queen after the first dance. It was hardly customary for him to leave her side even for a moment. But he had to show them all that he was not a fool in love like she had so callously implied, he had to show them that she meant nothing to him but a vessel for his heirs. It was a dangerous thing for a King to be perceived as weak, and he would try with all his might to reverse whatever damage Sarah had done. It would humiliate her. But in the end it would save them both.

He glanced over his shoulder, watching as she stood awkwardly amidst the throngs of people, clutching at her glass in a way that he could tell it was her only shield. It wasn't fair really, just how beautiful she looked shrouded by the light of the moon. But she would be fine, he deemed. She wasn't the threat anymore; they all thought her just a silly child with a head full of stars at best. It posed no danger for him to leave her alone. He should have warned her…he should have told her that love was never a good excuse before the court. Especially when matters of the kingdom were at hand. But then it had never crossed his mind. When would he ever expect Sarah to speak of love and hearts and souls? Particularly when he knew she felt only a fondness for him at best. He had said pretend that she adored him…not the other way around. And perhaps that was what had wounded him so. It was the truth in her words that was most humiliating.

He wasn't even sure if he loved her. He didn't think he had ever loved anything before. All he knew was that the darkest part of him, some evil nuance wanted to devour her, to eat her heart and capture her soul. But who knew, maybe that was love?

Before his brooding could take him any further down that dangerous path he spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Quieting a low groan he tried to unfurl his brow and plaster a welcoming smile on his face. But for the love of all that was good, he was in no mood to entertain this man. He could spot the Duke from a mile away, dressed in a deep crimson that reminded Jareth very much of blood. Jacques had been a friend a long time ago. He pondered that it was almost funny that everyone around him had been a friend a long time ago. But this silver haired man with the face of a youth was a tricky one. He had always been sly, even in their boyhood, intent on outdoing Jareth every step of the way. He was a friend of the family so to speak, the son of his father's closest General. They were expected to be bosom companions…but Jareth had run out of patience for the man's sharp tongue and brazen words a long time ago.

"What a devastatingly long time it's been since I gazed upon your handsome face." Jacques cried out as he reached the King, throwing his arms out with the exclamation. Jareth glanced to the bottom of his glass, raising his brow.

"Indeed it has been. I apologise but I had other things to do." He feigned a bored and disinterested tone, trying to signal his otherwise deadly mood. But Jacques was either ignorant to the matter or simply did not care. Jareth suspected that it was the latter. He watched as his old companion clicked his fingers at one of the waiters, satisfied when they bowed low and presented him with a tray.

"Other things besides drinking and whoring? I don't think I recognise you." Jacques grinned a little too sharply as he replaced Jareth's empty glass with something fresh. At the sound of his words Jareth gave a quick glance over his shoulder, satisfied when he spied Sarah wandering by one of the pillars, taking in the magnificent sights of the flowers dripping from the vines. With a scowl he turned back to the man.

"I would be grateful if you would not mention that in front of my future Queen."

At the mention of Sarah, Jacques' face dimmed a little, his mouth drawing into a tight line.

"The Queen indeed." He swirled his wine in the glass and made no effort to drink it, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

"I must say Jareth; I did not expect this of you. You've always been rather predictable, but this...I must commend you on this one." He raised his glass slightly in a mock toast, his eyes following the wide-eyed girl with an open amusement that Jareth was beginning to find particularly irksome.

"Pray tell, what is that supposed to mean?" He muttered, willing himself not to follow his gaze to Sarah. Jacques shrugged a little, his mouth curling at one side in a sardonic smile.

"You were always one for a spectacle weren't you? This is the ultimate attraction isn't it?" So there was that vicious tongue.

"You do not approve I presume." Jareth muttered, his voice low in warning.

"It is not my place to approve or disapprove of the things you do. But this...this is something completely new."

Jareth quirked a brow at the man as he willed him to tear his gaze away from Sarah. He did not care for the way Jacques looked at her. It was something altogether predatory and pitying all at the same time, almost as if he had spotted a mouse too weak to fight back. Placing a hand on the man's shoulder and flexing his fingers just a little too tightly, Jareth led them farther away from her.

"She is a woman. A beauty. What makes her so different than all the others? Why should I not want to possess her?" He whispered conspiratorially, allowing a little humour to drip into his voice.

"Possess her? Forgive me but I heard that you are in love. With a human girl of all things. How charming." Jacques stopped them as they reached a quiet corner of the room, seemingly revelling in the way the King's eyes had flashed in what was seemingly a panic.

He cocked his head slightly. This wasn't the Jareth he remembered. The Jareth he once knew would cut you down with no more than a few well placed words if he so desired. No one dared question him or his judgement. But tonight he seemed flustered, his eyes bruised and tired from restless nights and constant thinking. If he didn't know any better, he would say that the King was nervous about something.

Jareth stood a little straighter, bearing down at the silver haired man.

"She is a young thing with a head full of fairy tales. What she calls love I call necessity for an heir."

"You forget that there have been rumours of this for a very long time. I have yet to ask, but I presume she is the same girl who won your little maze? People have been whispering about the human who captured the love of our King for years, Jareth."

He could feel his eye twitch a little then. He had almost forgotten about that. Rumours indeed. Suddenly the weight of Sarah's words seemed to weigh that little bit heavier upon him. With a shadow of a snarl, Jareth rounded on the man.

"I've also heard people whisper many things about you. It would be such a shame to speak of them so brazenly wouldn't it?"

With a shrug, Jacques took a few leisurely paces away from the King to observe the crowds.

"You know as well as I do, Your Majesty, that a King cannot love. He has better things to do with his time than love." He almost seemed to spit the word, like the very presence of it upon his tongue defiled him. Jareth shook his head, almost in wonderment at how brazen Jacques was growing. Did he forget his place so easily? Jareth had avoided the court for longer than he cared to admit. A rage brewed within him as he realised they had grown lax and loose lipped in his absence.

"She is a beautiful specimen of her race. And she is naive and a fool, all the qualities that would make a good Queen."

"You wish to make a fool a Queen? I didn't think the King would stand for such mockery." At the false tone of shock, Jareth's lip curled, baring his sharp teeth. Suddenly he cared little if the eyes of the crowd followed him or not.

"I wish to make an obedient Queen and a dutiful wife. Which reminds me, just how is your wife? As I recall the last I saw of her she was entwined around a very young elf in a brothel somewhere. Just how is she?" He said, delighting in the colour drain from the man's face.

"I can't imagine that the future Queen would take too kindly in knowing that her intended frequents the city brothels." Jacques muttered back and found he was not quite able to meet his King's eyes. Jareth merely took a step closer, a deadly look on his face.

"I believe that the future Queen will do as her husband says." When no answer came a small smirk crept onto his face. He watched Jacque's sigh a little, deflating as he cast a glance to Sarah. There seemed to be a small battle on his tongue as he searched for the right words.

"Indeed. I would just be careful if I were you, Jareth. And I speak as a friend."

Jareth stilled, his hands tightening around his goblet. It was unlike Jacques to speak so calmly, and dare he say it, genuinely? Curiosity won the battle over Jareth's pride as he gazed at the man, his silence giving him refuge to continue his speech. Jacques rubbed his forehead a little in what seemed like exasperation before fixing his silver toned eyes on his old friend.

"Do not forget yourself. You are my King and I do not wish to see a meek man who is wrapped around a human girl's little finger. It would be an embarrassment." His voice was quiet, wary of any onlookers and eavesdroppers, but all the same it seemed Jareth's heart stopped for a moment. Never before had someone been so blunt to him. Never would someone ever dare. He felt his breath come a bit harder as he averted his gaze.

"I have done no such thing; I swear I should strike you-"

"Probably, yes. But your threats cannot help you with this, Jareth. I just ask that you think on it. Is a girl worth this much? Is she worth losing the respect of the Kingdom? Is she worth your pride?" Jacques urged, placing a hand on Jareth's shoulder in some effort to convey that, despite all the callous words between them, truly he did care. He felt his heart sink as Jareth regarded his touch with something that was no less than loathsome.

"Do not test me, Jacques. I am still your King and I demand some respect." The deep rumble of his voice gave Jacques cause to retract his hand with a sigh, a note of irritability striking him.

"How can I respect a King that bows to another? To a little girl?"

Jareth could feel a tic in his jaw. Was that really how it was? Did he bow to her? Did he really warrant no respect because of the way he acted towards her?

Jacques watched him carefully, feeling something a little like pity for his old friend. He hardly ever knew if he could still call him a friend, it had been such a long time since they had even exchanged a word. But he remembered the way they used to sneak into taverns when they were young, drinking as much as they could get their hands on and seducing some barmaid or other. He remembered when they would race their horses as fast as the wind could carry them. He remembered everything about their shared childhood and the man he had once called a friend. And to see him like this now, nothing but a shadow of his former self, was nothing short of maddening.

"Tell me, Sire. If you bow and bend and break...does she at least do the same? Does she make you happy?" Jacques whispered, searching for the answer behind they stoic mask.

Jareth frowned, looking away and grinding his teeth. This was how people saw him then. Pathetic. A fool in love with a little girl. How could he have allowed this to happen? How could he fall so low and yet still keep falling?

"I thought not." Jacques said quietly, and the pity in the words sickened the King.

"Be gone with you. Before I slaughter you where you stand." Jareth spat, bringing a cup to his lips and relishing the taste.

With an overly obnoxious bow, Jacques took his leave.

---

Sarah took a large gulp from her glass, surveying the crowd. It seemed as if she was a pariah almost, everywhere she stepped a sea would part before her, giving her a clear path where she would not have to interact with anyone. She wasn't sure if that was the custom for a Queen or if they were all just being cruel. Try as she might, every time her eyes searched for Jareth she could not find him. A faint anger in her heart lurked that he had sworn to her that he would not leave her side. He promised. And here she was on her own, feeling very much like an outsider. Yet she supposed it was better for her to bite the bullet and dive in rather than wait for them to speak to her. If she had to do this on her own then the least she could do is try. So with a heart that pounded violently against her ribs she wandered over to a couple of women, each as devastatingly beautiful as the last that were huddled in muffled conversation and giggles. The taller of the two, a fiery red head, noticed her approach and murmured something to her friend.

Murmured greetings sounded, and Sarah inclined her head in hopeful acknowledgement. As they stood the women looked to her expectantly, waiting for her to speak.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all. Please, call me Sarah."

The redhead looked mildly scandalised at the suggestion, the blonde raising her eyebrows in surprise.

"I think that's hardly appropriate, Your Grace." The blonde breathed, doing a strangely good job of looking down her nose at Sarah all the while meeting her eye line.

Sarah swallowed as she took in the curt tone, looking to the red head who had bowed her head and bit her lip to muffle her giggles.

"My apologies. The King has taught me many things but I am yet to master them all." She tried again, swallowing the awkward start with as much grace as she could muster.

The blonde couldn't help the short burst of laughter that erupted from her.

"I'm sure he's taught you very many things."

Sarah felt the heat in her cheeks rise as she fought to remain calm. They were being cruel. They were mocking her.

The redheads nostrils flared, only for a moment, and for a second it looked as if she was smelling her.

"Hush, Bella. I'm sure the King hasn't been as callous with her as he was with you." She eyed the blonde, Bella, with a small cold smirk and Sarah felt her brow twitch. The women must have noticed her concerned gaze.

"Bella was his favourite once." The redhead explained, as if it were so very causal. Sarah swallowed hard as she looked between the two, thoroughly feeling as if she were missing out on the joke.

"His favourite?" Sarah murmured, still very much confused.

"Oh yes, she knows more tricks than a whore in a brothel." The redhead supplied and Bella gasped, scandalised.

"Just because you could not keep him do not insult me, Perdonia." Bella scowled and Perdonia shrugged, her eyes still firmly fixed on Sarah. The way she looked at her was nothing short of clinical, her eyes flitting over her gown with mild appraisal. As her eyes reached her face Sarah almost gasped at the cornflower blue of them, so soft and disarmingly sweet. It was almost as if they didn't belong amongst the harsh planes of her face, but altogether it was undeniably striking.

"It does make me wonder though...what makes you think that he loves you so?" Perdonia murmured as her companion cocked her head. Sarah's eyes flitted to the blonde, trying hard not to be distracted by the emerald green lace that she had been seemingly sewn into.

"I beg your pardon?" She whispered, taken aback by the woman's brazenness.

"Let me rephrase. You are a pretty thing, which is plain to see. Yet you do not have the proper breeding for a Queen and your elegance is rather understated…but then I suppose he likes the rough charm you have."

Bella nudged Perdonia, almost as if in warning, but the small smirk on her face betrayed her. Sarah felt her eye twitch, a heat growing in her face as she regarded the two women.

"Maybe it's because I'm not snide or cold. Maybe it's because I say what I mean rather than try and pass the words off as something else." She said as politely as she could, the words tipping from her tongue in a causal drawl. Bella raised one perfectly arched eyebrow at her, her gaze widening just slightly. Perdonia merely shrugged a little.

"Maybe. Maybe. I hope he does love you, heart and soul; it should be a shame for him to get bored of such a pretty thing like you. What would you do then? Not a friend in this world and an absent husband. It would be a terrible tragedy."

The way she had said that word, absent…Sarah knew she had noticed the lack of the King at her side. It confirmed what she had been thinking all along. It wasn't right. Despite herself, she shook back her hair and tipped her chin up defiantly.

"I think I can keep him occupied. Evidently more than you could. And I don't know what you're suggesting but I do not like the tone of it. I may be a stranger in your world but I am to be your Queen. I suggest you address me as such." Sarah bit back with as much strength as she could muster. Bella at least had the decency to look mildly bashful, yet Perdonia's eyes sparked a little more into life.

"Is the human feeling vengeful? We all know what happened the last time one did don't we?" She whispered, and as Sarah glanced at her companion she knew that even the blonde had thought she had gone too far. She gave her friend a more forceful nudge, fear flitting in her eyes as she spied on a spot just over Sarah's shoulder.

"Perdonia." A familiar voice joined the conversation and she felt her heart slow a little. A knot in her stomach seemed to unravel in relief before she remembered that she was ultimately furious at the man attached to said voice.

"Yes, Your Majesty. How wonderful it is to see you." The redhead sent her most charming smile to the King at Sarah's side, both of the women curtseying low. She spied a glance at Jareth, grateful to see a scornful look on his face and his body tensed.

"Indeed." He merely said, regarding them both as they rose. Perdonia gave him an appraising look, seemingly ignorant of his fiancé standing to the side of him.

"The years have been kind to you. You look much the same as when I first saw you."

"Truly? It was such a long time ago I hardly remember the first time we met. Yet I must ask, are you being kind to my Queen or are you practicing with that wicked tongue again?" The clear dismissal of her compliment had obviously riled the woman, but still, she smiled sweetly with an odd glint in her eyes that Sarah watched with a barely concealed frown.

"I do believe his Majesty liked my wicked tongue once upon a time."

Jareth tensed beside Sarah, a shift coming over him and darkening the aura around him. She thought that Bella knew well enough not to say one more word, bowing her head so low that her pale face was hidden beneath the locks of blonde hair.

"That was before I realised that a wicked tongue often got boring after a while. No one wants to repeat the same old tricks they've been doing since their long forgotten youth." Jareth smirked lightly, and Sarah thought it rather jarring, how his smile didn't match his mood. He was angry, quite obviously, but he was doing his best to conceal it. Yet she ignored him for a moment, watching a light blush flit across Perdonia's cheeks and relished it as a victory.

"Certainly not." The redhead agreed begrudgingly. All at once Jareth turned to Sarah, his eyes raking over her figure.

"Young Sarah here is nought but in her 23rd year. It is your 24th approaching, yes?" He said to her with mock concern. Sarah pretended to think for just a moment before answering.

"Yes, Your Majesty, I do believe it is."

Jareth's lips curled a little on one side as she played along.

"So very young, and so very sweet. A far cry better sight than jaded old bitter women who whisper in corners. Don't you think?" He directed his question to the two women, raising his brow as he awaited an answer. For a moment it looked as if Perdonia was working up the courage to say something, but Bella spotted it and grasped her hand.

"Of course, Your Majesty. We wish you many happy returns. Yet we must go and find some trouble." The blonde beamed with false confidence, bustling her friend away.

"Of course you do." Jareth nodded lightly and led Sarah through the ballroom, feeling the shift of the eyes upon them. He had almost thrown his glass to the ground in frustration as he saw her approach the two women. Of all the first interactions with his people she couldn't have chosen a snarkier two. But she had done well enough and stood her ground at least, despite her earlier error the one thing he could do was save her from their clutches. As they lingered in the shadows Sarah turned to him, a dim ferocity in her eyes.

"And just where were you?" She whispered quietly, aware that the eyes had turned to the first true interaction they had seen of the Royal couple.

Jareth held his glass aloft, sloshing the meagre remains of whatever alcohol was in there.

"Starting to get very well and truly drunk."

"Shock." Sarah muttered, trying to keep any signs of anger on her face at bay. It wouldn't do well for the first time people to see them talk be an argument. Jareth eyed her for a moment, swallowing hard as he thought about what she must think. He could tell that she was angry, her eyes lingered on him with a strange twinge of disappointment and her answers were short and succinct. For a moment he thought about informing her of her of just what had gone wrong, but seeing the way Perdonia and Bella had sharpened their claws and prepared to sink them into Sarah, he supposed it was better for her to live in ignorance for a little while longer. She needed confidence. And knowing her she would feed off of the anger he gave her, giving her some sort of purpose and direction to prove to him that she could do it on her own. Despite herself, she was sometimes very predictable.

"You are doing very well." He settled on, nodding to her in an almost fatherly manner. Sarah looked at him almost incredulously.

"I'm sorry, did you not just hear that conversation? It was horrible." She whispered, her eyes wide and pained. Jareth almost took pity on her then, his hand twitching as if to comfort her. But as a muttering group of men passed them he refrained.

"But you didn't let them win. They will think twice before answering back to you again." He returned the whisper, urging her to have some belief in herself. She paused for a moment, looking to the two women who had taken to lounging on a low-lying couch with some male companions. As she caught their eye they looked away quickly in what seemed like a panic, immersing themselves in their conversation. Despite herself, Sarah couldn't help but allow a small victorious smile.

"I want them to love me. Not fear me." She reasoned gently, and Jareth chuckled, a deep rumble that seemed to echo in her chest.

"That will come with time. For now, show them that you are better than them. The fear will turn to admiration, and then the admiration to love. That is the way of things here."

Sarah flicked her gaze to him, a shadow of a smirk on her face.

"And is that how you did it?"

With a quirk of his brow Jareth made to answer, but his face soon fell as he spotted a group approaching them.

"Sarah, forgive me, but I must greet my subjects." He said, seemingly genuine. But as Sarah glanced over her shoulder and spotted a trio of giggling women she felt a fire burn in her chest.

"Oh really? Your subjects?" Her eyes burned into his as a strange thought crossed her mind. Is that where he had been then? Is that what he had been up to?

Jareth narrowed his eyes, gazing down at her curiously.

"Do not question me, Sarah. Especially not here." He warned, his voice low as the women rapidly approached them. He spied the shard of something poisonous in her eyes and wondered in amazement…was she jealous?

"Is this why you've been ignoring me all night? Because you're off getting reacquainted?" She knew it wasn't wise, the way the words were tumbling from her lips like rain, but it seemed as if someone else was working her tongue and squeezing her heart as she stared at him. A thought that had never crossed her mind before seemed to loom over her. She had spurned his advances, every single one of them…would he truly seek solace in someone else because of that? They weren't married yet, they weren't in love despite what she had told the court…so why shouldn't he enjoy himself with someone else? But even the notion of it sent acid running through her veins that burned in a way she had never felt before.

He looked at her with nothing short of a warning, his eyes brimming with the irritation of her tone.

"Not now, Sarah." He waved her away, moving to meet the women halfway. She was struck dumb for a moment. He had waved her away like was nothing? How dare he.

"Jareth-" she tried again, grasping his arm.

"Must I repeat myself?" He said quietly as he rounded on her, a darkness lurking in his eyes that she had not seen in a very long time. Without even looking she knew that everyone was watching, waiting for her to fall out of step and do something wrong. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

"Never, Your Majesty. I hear you quite clearly." She said firmly, the shadow of a sneer on her face. Whispers surrounded them and she waited with baited breath for his reaction.

He hesitated, just for a moment, and in that moment Sarah pondered if he would say something to make it better.

But then she supposed he had never been that good of a man. He walked away without glancing back.

---

What was wrong with him? And moreover what was wrong with her? Sarah scolded herself for allowing her temper to get the better of her, almost fearful of the strange rage that had seemed to take hold. Things between them had been good, better than she had ever imagined they could be if she were honest with herself. Over time a strange tenderness had begun to bloom in her chest towards him, and she marvelled that despite the odds they had struck up a rather unconventional friendship. She had even begun to fear the deep rumbling pang that would take hold of her heart on the rare occasion, leaving her wondering if it was more than that. But now she realised what a foolish thought that was. The women here were beautiful, and so obviously desired him that it almost made her blush. Why wouldn't he want them more?

She swallowed, looked up at the moon and marvelling at how very large it was that night. She could feel a light breeze ghosting her lips and prickling at her skin as she thought. But then he had promised her. He had sworn that he would stay with her. Were these women really worth not honouring his word to her? Were these women worth risking a plan as grand as theirs? But she supposed in the end she had never truly understood him to begin with. She supposed that even to him, she could become invisible.

Just as she closed her eyes, wishing for her bed, she heard a sultry voice sound behind her.

"What a very pretty dress."

Sarah stilled as her thoughts were invaded, her shoulders tensing and the base of her spine beginning to tingle. With a deep breath she turned to face the body that held the voice, surprised to see a very stunning woman. She was almost everything Sarah was not she couldn't help but muse. Long golden hair flowed in waves to her waist, shining like a pool made from the sun itself. A crimson dress hugged her figure, the low bust line so indecent that Sarah was unsure of where exactly to look. But when she tried to meet her eyes they were such an intense shade of ice blue that Sarah could hardly stand them.

With what she hoped was a graceful movement; Sarah bowed her head in acknowledgement to the woman before her. The woman raised her brow in almost delighted surprise, curtseying back.

"I see the King has shown you the proper greeting." She said in murmured approval. Sarah offered a small smile that did not reach her eyes. The spurn of Jareth's ever so public rejection still weighed heavy upon her and she seemed in no mood to entertain anyone. But she maintained the taught smile.

"He has been most gracious to me."

"The King is gracious to most pretty faces." The woman cocked her head and smiled knowingly. Yet it was not in the same barbed tone the other women had adopted, this was more like a shared joke between old friends. Sarah shrugged a little, all at once wary and a little hopeful of the woman.

"Oh, how terribly ill mannered of me. My name is Marie." She smiled kindly.

"Sarah."

Marie scanned her eyes over her body, taking in the dark fabric of Sarah's dress that swam in pools of lace over her body. She nodded approvingly.

"Well, he certainly dresses you like a Queen. That fabric is a great gift."

Sarah smiled gratefully as for the first time that night she heard a compliment that actually seemed like a compliment.

"I know. Jareth always did have a better taste in clothes than me." Her little joke was met with a wry smile.

"Yes, indeed. He was always rather flamboyant. Tell me, how are you finding our world?" Marie looked up to the skyline, seemingly bathing her face in the light of the moon.

"Wonderful, it's beautiful. Truly." Sarah said genuinely, a smile fluttering about her mouth as she thought of the view at her bedroom window and the comfort it gave her. Then she began to think how rather strange it was, that it was the Labyrinth that gave her comfort these days. She tried desperately hard not to think of the comfort she had so often found in Jareth's eyes.

"Nothing like home I'd expect?" Marie whispered conspiratorially, her eyes twinkling. Sarah eyed her a little warily.

"No...not really."

"Surely you must miss it? Your home? You have no thoughts to return to it?"

"Yes, but...Jareth is here." Sarah said softly, her eyes once more searching for his familiar shock of blonde hair. She tried not to let the disappointment show on her face, as his whereabouts remained a mystery. Even if he wouldn't maintain the act, she would.

"And you love him. Heart and soul you said." Marie asked lightly, her brow raising a fraction as she seemed to ponder it. Sarah swallowed, meeting the woman's gaze as firmly as she could.

"Yes." She said with as much conviction as she could muster. Marie eyed her for a few moments before giving Sarah a beaming smile that almost dazed her.

"Well, then I am happy for him. He seems such a lonely man." The woman threaded her arm through hers, leading her casually from their place in the shadows to walk amongst the crowds. Sarah stiffened at the contact, still trying to deduce if it was some sort of trick. But the way Marie seemed completely at ease with her company seemed to settle her somewhat and left her scolding herself. Was she really so cynical? Why could she not just accept the only kindness that was being offered to her that night? Sarah smiled tentatively, glancing at her new companion.

"Why do you say that?" She murmured curiously, still aware of the way the crowds parted for her. Marie grimaced a little, her eyes crinkling.

"Well, I just think living in that castle with those awful goblins all day...How on earth does he stand it? How do you stand it?" She asked Sarah with what seemed to be genuine disbelief. Despite herself she couldn't help but laugh a little.

"I don't know. I rather like the goblins. They're quite sweet."

Marie raised her brow in good humour.

"Dear Gods...you are perfect for each other then."

Sarah smiled bashfully; content to be pulled along their strange tour of the ballroom. She tried to ignore the curious faces and prying eyes.

"I know it must be strange for everyone, having me here." Sarah whispered finally, trying to fill the silence that she had not felt quite comfortable in. Marie waved her away.

"Quite the contrary, I find it fascinating. The only humans we've had here have been Jareth's playthings for his Labyrinth. Never has one been so highly elevated. I wonder just how you achieved it." There seemed to be a note of genuine admiration in her voice, reminding Sarah that she supposed this truly was a sought after position. She felt the familiar bubble of the rage within her as she remembered how the group of women had awaited him to join them, no doubt content to flirt their hearts out and flaunt their devastatingly low bust lines. Her head seemed to swim as she thought it through. It was only after a few moments that she noticed Marie looking at her expectantly as she awaited an answer.

"He pursued me, really. I could barely say no." Sarah sighed, trying to quell the memories of their bargain. Marie pursed her lips, nodding almost thoughtfully.

"He pursued you? But why am I surprised. When our King wants something he will stop at nothing to get it. He'll even turn the world upside down it seems."

I move the stars for no one

The words seemed to float back to Sarah like an old lullaby, sending a shiver up her spine. At her silence, Marie continued.

"I visited your world once, many many years ago."

Sarah's ears seemed to prick as she heard the words, turning to Marie in what was nothing less than unbridled excitement.

"Really? What did you think? Where did you go?" The words tumbled from her, a beaming smile about her mouth. Was this it? Was there someone who truly did not fear her or her world?

"I thought it...different. And it was Paris. I believe it was 18th century at the time. Very many handsome men." Marie winked, a devious sparkle in her eye. Sarah raised her brow with a small blush. She did not need to pry further as to enquire what the woman had been doing there.

"Well you are very beautiful, I'm sure they loved you."

"I think so. " A wistful smile graced Marie's face at the memory and she patted Sarah's hand that rested in the crook of her elbow. Sarah spied her face from the corner of her eye, daring to venture out with her next question.

"Would you ever want to go back there?" She whispered softly, her heart pleading for an answer that would give her hope for Jareth's plans. Marie bit her lip, stopping their walk and glanced around almost nervously.

"Such talk could get you in trouble sweet thing. I do not wish to be burnt at the stake like so many before me." Her words were stern but there seemed to be some hesitance in them. Sarah looked aghast, shaking her head vehemently.

"They would never do that. It's illegal, it's barbaric." She was shocked at the very notion of it. The world had changed a great deal since Jareth's people had walked amongst them, Sarah couldn't even comprehend that the same tragedies would ever happen again. Yet Marie gave her a stern look.

"Are you saying that people in your world don't do things that are illegal? You don't suppose they still do barbaric things?"

Sarah swallowed, looking away hopelessly as she searched for an answer.

"There are a few bad people...the same as everywhere." She eventually settled upon. Marie sighed a little, glancing at the floor.

"I know your world had a Great War, did they not?"

Sarah blanched while Marie only smiled almost in pity at her reaction.

"We have had none. Since the war with your people we have lived in peace. Why should I want to visit a grief stricken world?"

When the words were put so simply like that Sarah could hardly wonder how to blame her. Would she want to be anywhere near her people if she knew only peace? She threaded her hands through her hair, exasperated.

"Because maybe you can make it better." She gestured a little desperately, pleading Marie to give her something. Something that would make this whole journey worthwhile. She waited with baited breath as the woman seemed to think, a hand coming to toy with the ends of her golden hair.

"Perhaps. Although some would argue that you don't deserve a chance."

Sarah tried her best to smile, her brow straining.

"Everyone deserves a chance."

Marie seemed to swallow and look away, unwilling to display the thoughts across her face. As she turned back Sarah felt her brow twitch at the stoic mask the woman now wore.

"I do wonder why you? And I mean you no offence, but why has Jareth picked you?" her words were curious as she took a step closer, the ice blue of her eyes scanning Sarah's own.

"If I could answer that I would. I don't know." She whispered. It was the truth. She had spent many a night pondering just why Jareth seemed to need her so. And as the dawn broke every time she realised she had come up with nothing. Marie exhaled through her nose as the thought.

"He has had many women. It just seems strange that he should finally settle down." Marie spoke the words kindly, almost as if the stream of her conscience was tumbling from her lips. But even so she did not miss the sharpness that flitted across Sarah's face. With a hasty smile she continued.

"I do not know the depth of his feelings to you. I find it peculiar that he should truly love anyone. I never thought him that sort of a man I suppose...he has always been too hard, too strong and callous. But I stand corrected it seems. And I suppose you should know, sweet thing, he is a man. And a King. He has certain needs that he will sate at every given moment. Many of the women here have been made use of. And it is no good for a Queen to be jealous of that." She spoke delicately, obviously edging around a subject that she knew Sarah would find unsavoury. And it seemed she was correct as the young girl did everything she could to avert her gaze.

"Jealous? I'm not…I'm just surprised. I knew he was…promiscuous...I just didn't..." Sarah closed her mouth, unsure of what she was trying to convey.

"We all saw the way his spurn hurt you. It was obvious, Sarah. The greatest advice I can give to you, child. No matter what you hear...keep a smile on your face. Give no one the satisfaction of seeing they have wounded you." Despite everything, she found nothing but pure compassion in Marie's eyes, even if it was mixed with a little pity.

Sarah swallowed, allowing a long exhale as she relaxed a little.

"Why is he doing this?" She flinched at the way her words sounded a little desperate, but Marie smiled sympathetically.

"He has an image to maintain sweet thing. And running around after a little girl wouldn't suit it."

Sarah stilled, swallowing hard as her eyes flickered through the crowd. Perhaps it was selfish. Perhaps it was greedy. But being around Jareth had begun to remind Sarah of that dark gnawing ache for someone to need her. She tried hard not to think of him in that moment and the way he seemed to need her ever so desperately. He could pretend with his prickly words and cold glances all he wanted, but he had always needed her. That was the one thing she was often sure of. Until tonight.

"Why are you being kind? I was half expecting you to rip my throat out." She eventually asked, almost moved by the companionship she was being offered.

"My sweet girl, it will be a hard task, to get these people to love you. Many had parents, loved ones, who died in the most heinous ways because of your kind. Remember, for your people the war happened many many generations ago. There is no one in your world that remembers. But for us…we were all there. I do not despise you as some might do. I spent much of my time around humans years ago. I know some are good. But it is the bad ones who are not worth the risk." It was strange, Sarah thought, the way in that moment the woman sounded so very wise beyond her years. Almost the same way Jareth did sometimes. Yet she shook her head helplessly.

"I'd never hurt anyone." She urged quietly, willing Marie to believe her. And as the firelight caught her eyes, she could tell that she did.

"I fear I must bid you farewell, I have other engagements to attend to. But I will watch for you, Sarah. I hope you find some peace tonight." She said, casting a twinkling eye to a young man leaning against a pillar and setting off with a tantalising sway of her hips.

As Sarah watched her go, she felt something that felt a little like burgeoning hope in her chest.

---

"Your Majesty, why have you neglected us for so long?" A devastating pout floated before Jareth's gaze as he regarded the brunette sat beside him on the scarlet cushions. What was her name again? Lilan? Lilian? Lilac? His head sought an answer but gave him only dead air. He was distracted and everyone around him knew it.

"Ah, that is because I am a terrible man, my dear." He murmured back, plucking a grape from the golden bowl on the low-lying table before him.

"I don't remember you being so terrible to me." The sultry voice sounded in his ear, and he fought to maintain a sigh. Was this how it was before? Did he really used to find pleasure in this? What a fool he was. The conversation was vapid and the words meaningless. No matter how beautiful the women lounging beside him seemed to be, he could only picture just how Sarah's lips had trembled and her eyes had fluttered when he snubbed her.

It was so unfair, the way Sarah seemed shine in the opalescent light, the way her hair caught the gleam of the fire and shone like a river that ran black under the moonlight. Every once in a while he felt a tide change in his mind, telling him to give up. What was this so-called victory truly worth anymore? It had caused him nought but pain and self-loathing...maybe he should just let her go. Maybe he should surrender and realise that her heart would never be his. But every time the pull of the tide was shifting, he would catch her eye. She would bat those absurdly thick lashes and smile, those green orbs of hers soft and shimmering, brighter than the diamonds around her. That was when he knew he was lost; he would be fighting the battle for her affection for the rest of his life. And how he was beginning to hate her for it.

"Your Majesty, might I beg of you an audience?" A familiar voice reached his ears and his eyes fluttered closed. Would there truly be no rest for the wicked tonight?

"Must you, Lukin?" Jareth muttered, bringing a gloved hand to wipe away the furrow in his brow. He refrained from looking to the old man; all too aware of the scolding eye he was being given. He hated how he made him feel like a child.

"I'm afraid the situation calls for it." Came the cool reply, and Jareth had no choice but to heave a ragged sigh and stand. Beckoning Lukin in agitation, they walked to a shadowed area of the room, just behind one of the great pillars.

Turning to face his advisor, Jareth couldn't help the snarl that took his face.

"And just what could be so important? Can't you see that I'm having a party?" He snipped lightly. Yet Lukin seemed to have heard it all before, regarding him with a look that lingered on irritation.

"You think she is ready for this?" He said, trying to keep his voice from wavering. Jareth groaned, willing for some kind of respite.

"You came here to scold me? Is that it? For your information I thought she was doing rather well." He muttered begrudgingly, his eyes fixing themselves on the glistening wall opposite him.

"You think it is wise to leave her to waltz about on her own? Really? She clearly has no idea of what to do-"

"She is to be your Queen. I will remind you, for the final time, to talk about her with some respect." Jareth drawled in a bored tone. Yet Lukin scoffed, a bitter smile gracing his face.

"Much like you have done this night?"

At the sound of his words, Jareth's eyes snapped open. He looked slowly to the old man, doing his very best to quell the rage blossoming in his chest. But before he could speak, Lukin held up a hand to silence him.

"You're playing a dangerous game. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

At Jareth's silence, Lukin heaved a sigh; tired of his King's behaviour.

"You have a taste for women. We all know that. But to flaunt it in front of her? Well it seems like a fools move. Do you mean to provoke her? Is that wise?"

Jareth gritted his teeth, his eyes widening as he stepped forward.

"She proclaimed me to love her in front of the entire court. What else can I do but show then she means nothing to me? They will take it as a weakness, falling for a human." He hated the way Lukin looked at him, as if he could see right through him. Despite the numerous times he had tried it had seemed he could never really lie to the old man. And he had stopped attempting it a long time ago.

"You were always a good liar Jareth. Just not when it comes to her." Lukin whispered, almost pityingly.

"I'm not." Jareth muttered through gritted teeth. The advisor shook his head ever so softly at the man before him, raising an eyebrow at his slouched stance. He had seen him like this so many times over the years that it was becoming almost boring. He remembered how the King had been prone to sulking through his boyhood, and it seemed things like that rarely ever changed.

"I practically raised you, boy. I know when you lie. You love her."

To hear the words come from another, words Jareth was not even sure of himself, sent his mind into a panic that he did not care to decipher.

"If you weren't so decrepit I would strike you down where you stand." Jareth glanced away, unable to find the words for his rebuttal. Lukin chuckled as he watched him, marvelling at how still after all this time, he resorted to threats when he knew he was being cornered.

"You are a fool in love. And she is certainly fond of you that much is clear. How funny it is that she has to pretend to love and you to not? How the tables have turned."

For the first time in a long while, Jareth allowed the shadow of a memory he had often repressed take hold of him. His lip curled as he seemed to bare his fangs, his eyes darkening as his heart quickened.

"You cannot talk about love to me. You may have forgotten but I have not." Jareth whispered in a clear warning. Lukin swallowed, his old face hardening at the tone.

"You do not know the things you speak of, boy."

Jareth gave a bitter laugh, rounding on him and thinking nothing of using his tall stature to glare down at the frail body.

"I know. I know too much and it tortures me even looking at you." It angered him, the way Lukin had the audacity to state back at him so brazenly, even as ghosts that had long been dead were reawakened.

"And how do you think it tortures me?" Lukin whispered harshly, for once a genuine emotion flashing across his face. Jareth spoke of a regret that would plague him to his grave. And he did not need the boy before him to flaunt it.

"You were selfish. And a fool."

"Perhaps we are more similar than you once thought." Lukin shrugged, knowing it would do nothing other than anger the King. At the sight of the venomous flash of anger in Jareth's eyes Lukin relented, taking a step back.

"I have much to be sorry for. And I often wonder how my actions have affected the man standing before me. Sometimes I can't help but think it is my fault, the way you are. So this once, Your Majesty, I will give you one word of true advice."

Jareth was silent as he heard the guilt he had so often accused him of being admitted.

"You need to remind the court that you are strong. You are their King. They have all forgotten and they talk to you with no consequence. Remind them that they need to respect you." With a final nod, Lukin backed away, turning once more to glance back over his shoulder.

"And tell Sarah of her error. Keeping her in the dark does nothing but make her second guess you, not herself. She is stronger than you give her credit for, and together…I fear you are stronger still. Besides…I know it tortures you so to stay away from her. It shows ever so plainly on your face." And with that last light snip, he seemed to vanish into shadows.

---

"Your Grace!"

A girlish squeal hit Sarah like a wall, and she gritted her teeth as she tried to pay attention to the old man before her. He was a sweet thing with a tendency to drone on and on about his fabric shop. Oh, he talked about silks and tartans and cotton, and it was all very dull. But Sarah thought she had perfected her pasted on smile, thoughtfully nodding at random intervals.

But on the other side of the room she could hear women shrieking with laughter and bottles being popped open continuously. And she knew who it was. Jareth seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

"You are a very sweet young girl. I for one find you charming." The old man whispered conspiratorially, and Sarah almost jumped as she was brought back into the conversation. At least this man was kind; he seemed nothing but curious about her world and ever so excited by the fabric of her dress. She was almost grateful for the mindless small talk he had provided her. She curtseyed low and bowed her head.

"And you are delightful, sir. I look forward to visiting your shop."

"A royal patron! How exciting. You must send word before you arrive and I shall have only the best of my wares on display." He clapped his hands, thoroughly delighted by her declaration.

"Of course."

"Do excuse me, but I seem to be running a little low on drink." He chuckled as he went in search of his booze, and as soon as he was out of eyesight Sarah let herself deflate. Ever since Marie had left it seemed that people were less hesitant to approach her. She almost wondered if that had been Marie's aim when she took her arms and paraded her about the ballroom, maybe she was showing everyone that the human didn't bite. If that was her goal then Sarah was grateful.

"It seems the night is finally going rather well for you."

Sarah stiffened as she heard Jareth's drawl behind her, a voice that was both amused and almost apprehensive. She straightened her back, making every effort not to turn and face him.

"Not as well as it seems to be going for you, Your Majesty." Her words were clipped, just bordering on the realm of polite before falling into something dismissive. She kept her eyes fixed on the crowd; all too aware of the way he had stepped forwards so he stood directly behind her.

"Will you not look at me, Sarah? Have I truly angered you so?" His voice was soft, his words almost ghosting a trail down her spine as he tipped them against her skin. With a furrowed brow, she turned to meet his eyes.

"What do you want?" At the sound of her cold voice, Jareth heaved a sigh. He placed his hands on his hips and glanced around before leaning into her.

"I think we need to talk." He muttered softly, ignoring the way she stiffened at his close proximity. Sarah smirked, a sight too cold and callous for her face. Jareth frowned at her, searching her eyes trying to find the source of her distress. Yet it seemed that she was determined to look everywhere except at him. After a few moments of persistence, she turned her gaze upon him. He flinched at the stony glare he was faced with.

"I don't want to talk." She whispered, and Jareth bristled at the tone.

"Sarah." He whispered back, his voice warning her as sternly as he could without drawing attention to the pair. She merely shrugged, seemingly no longer caring who watched or listened.

"You can go back to your women now."

Jareth's face contorted in a rage, and before she could blink he had grasped her by the hand. A now familiar sense of the breeze changing and her body shifting had her head spinning. As Sarah opened her eyes she found herself in the same small chamber that they had been before the ball. And more importantly, they were very much alone.

She turned to Jareth slowly, surprised to see the irritation in his face.

"Now….I think we need to talk about your behaviour tonight, Precious." He said lightly, but Sarah couldn't tell just whether he was joking or not. Nevertheless she scowled at him.

"My behaviour? Mine? Why don't we talk about you, Jareth?" She snipped, taking a step back as he seemed to advance on her. He cocked his head slightly, scanning her figure as she was backed into the wall.

"No matter what I have done, it gives you no excuse to question me or talk back. Not in public. You get away with whatever I allow behind closed doors, but in front of everyone…that's another thing." He said carefully, clipping his words in a way that he was trying to make her understand without resorting to shouting. Her eyes narrowed to slits that seemed almost cat like in the light of the fire. She observed the way he loomed over her, his palms resting either side of her head against the wall, his face only inches from hers. The shadows played against his face, giving the illusion that something altogether darker was lurking in his eyes. But the way his breath ghosted her lips made her shiver, and despite herself she found it made her heart pump so loudly she feared he could hear it.

"Maybe I'm acting this way because you've been acting like a bastard all night." She said quietly, but nothing short of deadly. Jareth felt his mouth twitch just a little.

"And how, pray tell, am I being a bastard?"

"If you need me to answer that then you really have a long way to go." Sarah sighed, moving to push herself from the wall but found that his hands effectively caged her in. When it was clear she was going nowhere, she resorted to glaring at him.

"If you're going to walk away from this conversation then it seems you have a long way to go yourself." Jareth warned. After a few moments of silence, Sarah flicked her gaze to him, the insecurity and nervous tremors beating her pride into a corner.

"You've been ignoring me. All night. Floating around with your goddamned harem like I'm so inconsequential."

"Harem?" He muttered, the word striking him into a daze. Sarah scoffed, looking away from him.

"Don't play dumb with me, you know exactly what you were doing, running off-"

"Your opening speech. Do you recall what you said?" He interrupted her, leaving her struck dumb for a moment. At her confused glance, Jareth forced himself to remain calm, bowing his head low and exhaling before meeting her sharp gaze.

"Do you recall?" He said slowly and carefully this time. Sarah opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish for a few moments as her mind searched for the answer.

"Yes, I said what we rehearsed-"

"No. No, you did not. Your little improvisation. What was it again?" She couldn't tell if he was being cruel or if he was genuinely distressed now, but the fixed look in his eyes told her it was important. Her heart started to drop as she felt a weight settle upon it. She shook her head as she thought, casting herself back to that awful moment when she had forgotten her lines.

"I'm here because I love you…and you love me-"

"Stop. Stop right there and think, for the first time in your life maybe consider what the consequences of your words mean." He snapped, regarding her with a look that made her feel ever so small. She could smell the wine on his tongue and saw the way his eyes had darkened. It was so very much unlike the Jareth she had known in the past few days that it made her head spin.

"How could what I said possibly be a bad thing?" She cried out, her rage surging as he scoffed, pushing off the wall with his palms and pacing the small room like some caged alley cat.

"If it's not the words you wish, then it's the words you write. If not the words you write, then it's the words you speak. I have told you before, Sarah, even the tiniest word, the smallest most insignificant sentence has the greatest consequences. What about that don't you understand?" He snarled, returning to his position and slamming his palm on the wall beside her head. Sarah flinched, desperately searching for the answer. At the sight of her ignorance he felt something desperate rush through him and wasn't sure if it was rage or disappointment. How could she not see?

"Any guesses? Any thoughts?" He whispered, almost mockingly at her silence. Sarah swallowed and heaved a sigh, fixing her gaze on the wall as she ran through her words.

"I love you." she repeated slowly, ignoring the flicker of some indiscernible emotion in his eyes.

"Keep going." He urged dangerously.

"You love me…" Sarah was still very much confused and felt nothing but rage burn through her as he tapped her on the nose, a false smile flashing across his face.

"Cigar for my lady. She hits the nail on the head." The sarcasm in his words seemed to tear through her, ripping apart her pride.

"I won't know unless you explain!" She yelled, almost desperate to be let in on the big secret. The whole night she had been wandering on the periphery of everything looking in. For once she wanted to know what was what.

Jareth gazed down at her before giving a ragged sigh, removing his palms from the wall and walking away from her. Sarah watched as he ran his hands over his face, and it seemed almost strange, the way he was so nervous about whatever he had to say.

"I…" He tried and failed to begin, raising his eyes to the ceiling as he searched for the words. Sarah was silent, shrinking into the shadows.

"Never in the history of this world Sarah, has a King loved his Queen. At least publicly. It's…it's weak…it's…something that can be used against him. Certain people would have no qualms about hurting you to get to me if they thought that it would provoke a reaction." He said softly, not meeting her gaze as he watched the flames burn scarlet and amber in their sconces. Sarah merely watched, observing the way he prowled like a bird that could be startled at any moment.

"But…to love you, specifically. That is worse than…than anything I suppose. We are supposed to be finding a way to bring this world back to life and to sustain my people. The only reason they are not opposing this marriage is because it means that this world might have a chance at survival. I'm not supposed to love you. I'm supposed to use you. If for a second they think that I'm in this for my own wants and selfish needs…then…well, we could very well have an uprising on our hands." He finished with a small shake of his head, continuing his pacing in some strange effort to quell the rising frustration within him. Sarah eyed him curiously.

"So…you were ignoring me to show them-"

"That I couldn't care less if you lived or died." He said harshly, and she was unsure for a moment if his anger was directed at himself or her.

"But obviously I wasn't doing very well since all night, all I heard was how distracted I was…they were mocking me. I am their King and they have lost all respect for me." He growled as he conjured a crystal, tossing the ball into the air and running it over his hands.

"Why didn't you tell me"? Sarah bit out, glaring down at the stone floor as a heavy blush fell upon her cheeks. Jareth stilled, running a tongue over his teeth. As he glanced at her and saw the heavy weight of what she had done settle upon her he softened, if only a little bit.

"And ruin whatever confidence you had garnered? How could I?" He quirked a half smile, trying and failing to keep it there when she met his eye.

"You should have-"

"And just what would have happened then, Sarah? You would have replayed everything in your head over and over again and you would not have been able to focus. I took the burden away from you-"

"You took the burden?" She spluttered, incredulous. Jareth's eyes narrowed, his fingers tightening on the crystal.

"Yes. I think you'll find that I did."

"Oh I'm sorry, it's just that I didn't think sitting with your women all night and having them fawn all over you looked like such a burden. I must be mistaken." Why did she have to do that? To poke and provoke him with her words? Sometimes Jareth thought she must enjoy it, the way she could wound him ever so easily.

He felt his jaw clench in an effort to dampen his temper.

"It may have looked ever so easy to you, Sarah, but it caused me nothing but distress."

"This is a joke right? Come on. You loved every second of it-"

"Sarah, I swear to the heavens..." His voice trailed away as he tried to compose himself, eyeing her with such distaste that it brought a lump to her throat. As she opened her mouth to speak once more, he raised a hand, signalling her silence.

"I beg of you, cease your words, woman." He muttered through his teeth. He knew very well how it looked. He knew for a few moments that he had lost himself. But did she truly not understand the ache in his heart that her pale face and wounded eyes had brought him all night? Did she truly not see what the guilt of it all did to him?

"Or what? What can you possibly do?" She asked, her voice low with the fury that ran through her. Jareth's eyes widened.

"Are you trying to provoke a threat?" He all but laughed, his voice low and incredulous.

"That depends, do you have one?"

He stepped back from her with a small shake of his head, and the look of disdain he gave her seemed to rattle the very bones of her body.

"If you truly believe that then all the progress we have made between us has been for nought."

Sarah raised her chin, ever so slightly in the little act of defiance she could afford, swallowing hard.

"Why wouldn't you just tell me? I could have helped. Do you think I can't be trusted? Do you think I'm an idiot?"

Jareth stilled, taking in her folded arms and narrowed eyes.

"Do not come to me with such stupidity, Sarah. You and I both know that you are better than that."

"I guess that answers my question. So you thought it was better to go and flirt with your exes and leave me all alone." She smiled a little, bitter and ever so out of character. Jareth took a step towards her, searching her face.

"I'm sorry, but are you jealous?" He said, the shock palpable in his voice. The way her cheeks burned crimson was all the answer he needed. But Sarah did not know what the feeling in her heart was. She couldn't fathom whether it was anger, distress, maybe she was just confused. It wasn't jealousy...it couldn't be. But the thought of one of those women wrapped around him filled her mouth with such poison that made it hard to breathe. Before she could even begin to construct a reply, Jareth waved her away.

"It matters not what you feel. What I'm doing is for your own protection and mine. You have no right to disrespect me-"

"You were disrespecting me!" She yelled, almost stamping her foot in frustration. With a snarl he rounded on her, and for just a second the look in his eyes frightened her.

"You were the one who pronounced to my whole court that I am in love with you! Do you not see what a foolish thing to do that was? You went off of what we rehearsed, if you had cared to share your little improvisation with me beforehand then I would have warned you and we wouldn't be in this fucking mess!"

Sarah's breath seemed to catch in her throat as she heard him curse. Despite all the threats and horrible things he had ever said to her, it seemed that that was the one thing that had the ability to cause a lump in her throat and her eyes begin to sting.

With a shaky breath she looked down, cursing herself.

"You know what, I'll accept that what I said wasn't the smartest thing. It was probably a horrible idea. But I panicked, okay? I didn't know what else to say-"

"And I'm not reprimanding you for that Sarah." He said quickly, returning to hold her by the waist against the wall as she moved to walk away. The faint sheen of tears in her eyes deeply disturbed him. She tried meekly to bat him off before resigning to lean back against the stone, his hands on her as the anchor to quell her misery.

"But you should have told me. And you promised you wouldn't leave my side, you would be with me every step of the way, remember? I was so mad at you for leaving me."

He bowed his heads as his own words came back to haunt him.

"I remember."

"So how do you think it felt to be thrown to those people? And they're all so cruel, Jareth, if they're not treating me like some commodity then they treat me like I'm an idiot." Sarah lamented quietly, a palm coming up to rest against her forehead.

"You're not an idiot." He muttered quickly, wincing at the words.

"I know that. But they don't. You should have stuck with and supported me. Like you promised. Instead you just forgot me. You treated me like I was nothing...like I was so unimportant I wasn't even worth a conversation. It was cruel." She gasped a little as she tried to suppress her tears. Jareth grasped her face, willing her to look at him.

"Sarah, I am so very sorry. I panicked, just as you did, and I did not know what else to do. If they thought for a second that I had any feelings towards you do you know what they would think of me? What they would do to you? We're supposed to be doing this to save my people and save my world, they're supposed to be getting to know you because it's in their best interests. Not mine. To think I am tearing through this realm, causing so much unrest all for the sake of love? If you were my subject what would you think?" His words had become desperate, his face contorted as he willed her to understand. He could see the shame and regret written across her face and sighed a little when she gave a terse nod.

"But you're right. I was unnecessarily cruel. I should have told you. Forgive me." He whispered, his breath stuck in his throat as he waited for her reply.

"Done." She whispered, closing her eyes as she relinquished the battle and the hold her rage had upon her. She met his eyes only for a second as she continued.

"Forgive me for saying what I did. And for…behaving like that in public. I shouldn't have."

"Done". He whispered, his eyes frantically searching her face as she gently wiped away a tear that lingered on the tip of her eyelashes. The air seemed to die down a little; the stifling rage and confusion lingered only as a resigned sadness. Sarah sniffed, biting her lip.

"Do you think I've ruined this? Do they all hate me?"

Jareth shook his head vehemently, despite himself a little smile quirking on his face.

"Not at all. They've spent far too much time being angry with me than to be angry with you. You're not a threat anymore. And as such I'd say most are actually quite intrigued by you."

He could see a little smile battling to make its way across her face, yet it lasted only a few seconds, her lips once again relenting to be gnawed on by her teeth.

"I just wanted this to be perfect. I wanted to help you." She whispered, and her voice seemed so hopeless in that moment that it was all Jareth could do to restrain himself from holding her to him. But their relationship wasn't quite there yet. He feared it would push her further away if he tried to overstep the boundaries she had so clearly laid.

"It will be a long process. We both knew that before we started. And the night is not over yet." He said, settling to chuck her gently on the chin, forcing her to look at him. She gave a half hearted shrug, seemingly accepting his words.

"You are doing so well. I am so very proud of you." He whispered, trying with all his might to convey that he really and truly did mean it. To his delight she rolled her eyes in some attempt at humour.

"You should stop complimenting me so much, don't want to let people think you actually like me." Though her words were rather borderline there was a flicker of a laugh amongst them that made Jareth relax a little.

"My world is complicated and often makes no sense. The people are callous and selfish. Being around them makes me realise just how much I prefer your company. Sometimes I even think…" His words trailed away, and Sarah stiffened as she heard what she thought was the beginnings of a confession. But he seemed to lose his confidence, choosing instead to clear his throat and furrow his brow.

"But there is the little matter of their respect. They've forgotten how to behave around their King. They've grown complacent." He said, half to himself as he gazed at the floor.

"So? Show them who's boss." Sarah said simply as she wiped her eyes, a strange echo of Lukin's words to him. For a moment he marvelled that perhaps the old man was right. She was stronger and wiser than he gave her credit for.

"Indeed." He whispered back, a slow smile curling on his face, his heart thudding a little harder when she returned it hesitantly.

---

A/N: Onwards to part 2!