A/N: Now that the scene has been set, let's see how this picks up steam, hm? Chapter's might become shorter, but I will update faster to make up for it.

The disjointed music was echoing around her, grotesquely masque faces leering at her as they span towards her then away, mocking laughter ringing obnoxiously in her ears. Wide green eyes searched desperately for the one she knew would protect her from the Fae Court, a sluggish understanding of where she was finally coming to her after years of confusion. She wasn't supposed to be here… she wasn't allowed to be here. She wasn't fae, she was from the aboveground, she was…

The music stuttered and spat, the colours of the ball fading into subdued hues. The laughter drifted until it was gone. The dancers waltzing their way to the wayside and then fading into the intangible edges of the room without truly taking their leave. Icy fear trickled down her spine and she turned, knowing who they fled from. He had finally come. After all those years where she had only ever called out to him in her dreams, and he had never answered, he was finally standing in front of her.

The Goblin King stood resplendent in his regalia, though Sarah found that she struggled to truly see what colours he wore. It wasn't the outfit from their last dance, nor was she wearing the dress he had placed her into. This time, however, he stayed masked and made no move to bear his expression to her. He merely stood, head tilted considering. Gloved hands folded in front of him. Crop and sultry laughter nowhere in sight.

It was then that she noticed how paralysed in place she truly was. Throat too dry for her to attempt to talk, if she even got so far as to know what to say. Tension thrumming through her as if expecting to fight for her life. But no danger came. Only silence.

Then finally he sighed, lips pressed firmly together, and he stepped forward. Whatever spell which had fallen began to break; she managed to lift her head, noticing that other than her rampaging pulse and laboured breathing, a new song had taken the chaotic chorus of the unseelie ballroom. It was soft, melodic.

Yet it held hidden barbs, and she flinched as she finally recognised what it was. The song he had sang for her, in an effort to bind her to his side. His effort to sway her will, so she would give up on her brother and stay Underground. She too bull-headed and desperate to save Toby to realise what it was, too young to truly understand. And yet… it was in this moment as she watched what little of his face which she could see as he turned his head to listen intently too, that she realised how desperate he must have been as well.

Panic, shame… a myriad of emotions flooded her and she gasped, wrenching her gaze away from his frame. He stopped a few metres from her, once more gazing down at her, but made no move to console nor appease her.

When her shining eyes met his, a ghost of a smile played about his mouth. And even that hurt more than if he had snarled at her and cast her out.

"…Hello, precious."

The familiar, rumbling baritone crossed the room to her in a lost lover's embrace, caressing her ears and raptly seizing her attention.

"J-Jar… Jareth…"

His jaw tightened. "How long I once yearned to hear you call me that," he muttered darkly, turning to stalk around her, gaze pinning her in place, "To stop vilifying me. To take it back. But what's said is said…"

She spluttered, turning her head wildly to find where he had gone to outside of her sight, "I didn't… what…"

The air lost any remnants of warmth. When she finally whirled to find him, he was standing far away from her again as if he couldn't abide her presence.

"I did call you! You never came!"

Jareth scoffed, staring scornfully at her as he finally removed his mask, where it disappeared like smoke. "Oh, did you now? In front of your treasonous mirror which sought to sway the minds of my subjects, hm? Did you call to me as you called for your friends?"

This time it was Sarah who took a step back from him, nearly tripping over her gown. It was the same style as Jaque had dressed her in, yet silver. She couldn't see nor feel if she wore shoes. "Well n-no, no I didn't, I… I…"

"And what would you have called me for? Did you wish to see me? Was it merely a whim? Something to distract you from the shambles of your monotonous existence you've always so desperately sought a way out of?"

Now that she could see his face in its entirety, her stomach dropped like a stone. Was he ill? He looked far gaunter… more haunted even. Where before there had been a fire in his eyes, pure daring in every move of his being as he taunted her, there was nothing now. It was as if she spoke to a mere memory of who he had once been.

Even his insults were hollow and monotone.

"All you did was scare me, threaten me, twist and try to cheat so I couldn't get Toby back. I was too young to understand what you tried to offer me, or what I felt- what you made me feel," she shot back, ire burning in her eyes, "I had to win, he didn't deserve to be ripped away from his parents like that, I had to bring him home. What was I supposed to do, Jareth? Call through my mirror and invite you for a cup of tea and a chat?!"

His nostrils flared, and he stalked back up to her, eyes narrowed. "I did everything you asked of me, precious. You needed me to be the villain, so I was. Your brother was cared for to the utmost reach of my powers, protected against any and all who would wish him harm, and so were you."

"You tried to kill me!"

"Both of us know that's not true."

"He still didn't belong in the Underground, I had to win to put him back!"

"His safety was never in question."

"Safety? Goblins were taking care of him- GOBLINS! What did you care for his safety?! Your interest was never in him!"

"WILL YOU LISTEN, YOU INSOLENT WOMAN?!"

Sarah yelped in fright, hand coming up in front of her as if to protect herself, but Jareth was already turning away and dragging a hand down his features in irritation.

"'I move the stars for no one', do you recall? Do you remember anything of what was said when I plead with you?"

She paused for a moment, the music in the background only making her all the more confused. "I remember it perfectly, even if I didn't understand it at the time. You didn't… mention Toby."

"Every time I have this dream, precious, you are armed with yet more daggers set to wound me. Each time you appear, you steal another piece of my soul for your own. You've always been so mercilessly cruel…" His mouth thinned, his eyes flicking away sharply, "For too long my kingdom has suffered from your careless wrath. Its decay, rampant. No more. I cannot let them all die simply because I have lost the ability to live, and not just survive."

He sighed. Suddenly he looked so pained and vulnerable, so lost, as he lifted a hand to ghost across her jaw in a gentle caress… yet his hand halted short of his mark as if he expected her to burn him, and he snatched it back. "You already said your goodbyes, and I have said mine. This is the last time I'll see you, Sarah."

The last time… wait. Sarah looked up at him wildly, dashing forward before taking stock of her actions, hand reaching up as if to grab his lapel. "Dreams? Goodbye? Jareth, what are you on about- speak to me!"

His gloved hand gently ensnared her wrist, lifting it from near his person, to reluctantly deposit it by her side. "Farewell, precious."

As she watched, he started to fade, and in shock she realised there were tears leaking down her face in a fast stream. "No, NO, Jareth- JARETH NO! DON'T LEAVE ME! JARETH PLEASE-"

A shattering sound reached her ears, a sharp gust of wind sliced at her person, and suddenly she was falling… falling…

Aislynn watched him dispassionately as he writhed in his sleep, cold hand poised above his head as he muttered and strained. Swirling, murky colours were slowly spiralling into her palm from his mind, and a dark smile crossed her features as he strived to follow the dream connection she had severed. He gave a laboured gasp, pulling against the magical restraints she had warded over him, then finally his mind submitted the memories of what had just transpired into her grasp. All dreams of Sarah, their shared moments in his unconscious, his pathetic yearning that always followed suit despite his exaggerated exclamations that he had already closed her out of his heart… all surrendered to her will. Forever lost to him.

With a small degree of calculated interest, the blonde released him from his binds and slid from his bed, stalking to the wide arched windows of his chambers to admire the nightmarish sphere glittering in her hand. As she turned it in the light, images of the mortal girl's panicked face crossed the crystal's surface, and the smile grew into something far more malicious.

Rosebud lips parted, eyelids fluttering closed in barely repressed desire, then the fae lifted the ball to her mouth tantalisingly slowly… before emptying its contents down her throat with a delighted hum.

When Sarah finally awoke, she found herself once more in her echoing dorm, knowing that the only reason she had escaped the clutches of the nightmare was from screaming herself raw. This time, though, things felt different. Her wrists felt chafed. Her throat bruised and tender. Panicked breathing spurred her into her bathroom, barely registering the familiar cold bite from the ceramic tiles, and she ran to her sink to stare into the mirror and the visage that stared hauntingly back at her.

Another scream of fright left her as her hair fell away from her neck, and the blatant presence of finger prints were revealed in their marbled glory across the lily expanse of her skin. She could still feel the material of the gloves that had been attempting to choke her to death biting into her throat. A quick glance at her wrists showed that the torturous binds that had held her still had been just as real.

"What is going on," she breathed desperately, eyes still painfully wide as they roamed over her appearance. Was she officially losing it? Was she hallucinating or were these real? "But they can't be real… it's impossible! I… I never left my room!"

What about Jareth? She had been talking to Jareth… he had seemed extremely real too. Her first dream of him in nearly six years, and yet he had spoken as if he saw her regularly. It had been the strangest dream she had ever had… until she had been thrown back into the Labyrinth.

Yet in the land she had once known so intimately, she had no longer been safe. Realisation of where she had ended up concluded in the realisation of what was happening to her; The makeshift altar she had been tied to, the deafening and blinding storm which she had been convinced might rival her hidden attacker for which would kill her first.

Gloved hands… had it been Jareth? He certainly had had enough reason, in her mind, to want rid of her. To hurt her, since she had hurt him so deeply and mercilessly before.

Mercilessly. He had called her that, merciless. And cruel. Was she? Had she been?

Had Jareth just tried to kill her?!

Sarah whirled away from her mirror and back to her bed, drawing her duvet up and over her in a protective ward as if to fend the mere thought of him off.

Exhaustion wrestled her mind for dominance, and eventually it won.

It wasn't until her head had hit the pillow, however, that she realised that in both nightmares involving gloved hands where her life had been on the line… the hands had been too small for the Goblin King she knew so well.

And the gloves… they weren't leather. They were cloth.

Women's evening gloves.

Jareth spent his day with the hairs along his body on constant vigil, eyes cast around him furtively towards each shadow in each room, the unknown occupants dancing just outside of his awareness until he finally stood from his desk to rip the curtains apart and force the gloom to leave. Anticipation accompanied him as he pulled the strings of his poets shirt closed and exited his chambers without a backwards glance, his constant companion since dawn had announced its arrival and woken him from the clutches of disturbed sleep.

His mind felt alien, muddled. The fae was struggling to organise his thoughts into a cohesive manner that he could peruse and ponder over, large pockets seemed outwith his grasp. Why had he awoken laden with grief? Startled panic? Who had he been expecting to see when he looked around himself and finally climbed from his expansive bed?

An unfamiliar scent hung in the air of his rooms, and now that he walked from them towards airier halls, he found that he couldn't focus long enough to discern where it might have come from. Each time he tried to chase the thought, a searing pain shot across his mind making him hiss, stumbling into the nearby wall until it receded. Perhaps he was ill, then. It had been a while since his health had been jeopardised... but he supposed now was as good a time as any for it to fail him. Too much stress, not enough recreation.

Not that he could think of anything remotely entertaining, either. The further he walked, the more of himself he seemed to lose along the way.

The room pitched suddenly, and he careened through a heavily draped archway, hands holding his head as he crashed into one of the walls. Was he under attack?

His lips peeled back in a snarl as he forced his back against the cool brick, head tilted defiantly upwards as he looked around himself. Yet even the anger he felt at potentially being targeted began to bleed away from him as well, leaving him panting with effort as he struggled to remain standing.

These feelings… the waking, feeling as if something was missing… it had been going on for many a moon's turn now. But he was damned if he could even hypothesise to what ends he might have been the target of attack, or what it was that he was losing. His heart seemed unreachable, his deep well of emotions locked away from him.

With a growl, he wrenched himself away from the wall to stagger onward. To find someone to give him aid before whatever this infernal thing was took too far a root, caused permanent lasting damage. He had a kingdom to run, a monarch couldn't chance losing his wits.

"H…help…" he gasped, sweat pouring down his back, "Help me! Help… help…"

Jareth tried to muster as much energy as he could to summon a crystal, to take him directly to the physician of Aurea, but as it formed it burst. A bubble. He tried again, concentrating with everything he had, yet the result remained the same. The faint popping sound grated on his nerves.

Panic began to set in with each corridor he passed without finding anyone. Where were they? The palace was always teeming with fae, noble and guards alike. Yet now they were conspicuously absent. Was he dreaming? Was he still in Aurea?

Movement appeared in the corner of his eye and he turned quickly, losing his balance again as he desperately sought to see who it was.

The familiar features sent a wave of relief flooding through him and he stopped struggling finally, sagging against the stone support as she stepped cautiously towards him. "Aislynn… Aislynn please… you must aid me..."

The lady of the Isles continued towards him graciously, hands folded neatly in front of her as she came to a halt not so far away, watching him intently. "Of course, my liege… what ails you?" she asked carefully, hands reaching to hold onto his arm.

His eyes searched her's frantically, beseeching her to understand the severity of his condition. She looked so calm, composed. He shook his head, trying to dispel the fog that began to settle upon it anew, but the harder he fought it the thicker it got.

"I don't… where… ?"

"Shhh shhh… Jareth… stop fighting it. It will all be over if you stop fighting…"

His brow furrowed into a scowl, confusion descending nauseatingly fast. What was she talking about? "We must… go… I must get to the physician… Aislynn please…"

The other fae smiled at him but made no move to steady him. Instead, she pulled on his arm so he stumbled and collapsed onto the nearby bench, then she took her seat beside him. "My, my, my liege… you seem positively exhausted. All of this stress cannot be good for you… perhaps I should see to it that you make it home safely."

Home?

Now?

His eyes cast about him again, the muddled thoughts in his head all colliding at once. What was he doing?

A last ditch effort at escape gripped him and he lurched forwards, making for the archway, but long nails bit into the exposed flesh on his arms like daggers and yanked him back again. Her face was lit up by cruel glee as she watched him struggle, his breathing laboured as he stared up at her pleadingly, sinking further into the bench.

"What… what have you done…"

Her smile held no shred of warmth as she grinned down at him, head tilted to the side as she appraised his dishevelled state. "Everything I have needed to. No one is going to save you, Jareth, you gave yourself to me. And I will have what is mine."

His eyes screwed shut, his head falling to press against the cold sandstone. Aislynn viciously swiped her skirts away from him and laughed coldly, finally releasing his arm. A small trickle of blood ran from where she'd punctured the skin, and she lifted a covered nail to her mouth to taste it.

Exquisite.

"Your… I'm marrying you. You already have me… you have…"

"It is not you I'm after, o' mighty Goblin King. It is your very will to live. Your power. Your lands. Your kingdom. The mighty Fae king who conquered the chaotic races under his rule, who laughed in the face of Terauramulis law to unite the Wastes, the most feared monarch in seventeen millennia… reduced to a snivelling wreck by a little magic. You disgust me."

Jareth rolled against the bench, weakly fighting against her. He had to stall her. Had to distract her, until someone came. "You were promised everything. Everything you could want... why would you do this..."

Another sharp laugh, scornful. "You insult me by attempting to ply me with your leftover offers. You think you could propose to me as you did to Her?! A despicable, horrific little mortal?"

A hand lashed out and struck him, snapping his head to the side. He tumbled, falling from the bench onto his back, where he was forced to watch as she stood and stalked towards him with murderous intent. "No, Jareth, I am no one's second chance. You're now under my will, and you will stay there until I have everything I need. Then I will release you, from this bond, as well as the shackles of your immortality, once you cease being useful."

She knelt, knee pressing painfully into the soft tissue of his shoulder, her gloved hand resting on his throat. "And the best part? You won't even realise what's happening. You'll wake from this, remembering nothing, not even your pathetic love for that cretin, and you will submit to my will without a fight. No one will be able to save you, because you won't be able to tell any one them anything. You will not be able to call on your darling little Sarah. Your friends will soon begin to disappear from your side, where they cannot reach you."

"You won't get away with this!"

Finally, Aislynn moved, bringing her lips down to ghost seductively over the shell of his ear as she began to tighten her grip against his trachea, a bright smile on her features. "Oh, but can't you already taste it, Jareth? I already have."

She leaned back, her free hand lovingly tracing down his face even as he snarled and tried to jerk it away from her. "I'll even give you a wedding gift, my darling betrothed. You'll get to see Sarah die in front of you, by your hand, repay her debt to you in blood. And you'll smile as you do it, even while on the inside you scream for someone to stop you. You'll get to see that fierce light in her eyes leave as she stares into yours, confused as to why the only male she has ever loved would kill her. Would leave her monster of a brother to fend for himself. He was to be your heir, after all, wasn't he? I can't imagine he'll be too happy to find out his staunch protector is also the murderer of his precious sister... after all you swore no harm would ever come to either of them..."

Gripping his jaw, she forced a kiss onto him, pouring the darkness she had ingested down is throat as he fought against her, trembling from the effort yet barely able to attempt to grit his teeth shut.

"Sleep now, my King. We have an engagement ball to attend soon, and I do so want you to be playing along with your role in this when it comes. Here's to eternity, together."