"People are up early," Sarah remarked. On the main square people were busy feeding the horses and carrying boxes. They were mostly men, calling out to each other with instructions and questions. It looked rather chaotic yet they walked around purposefully without ever seeming to be in each other's paths.

"Most of the men here are not up early. They are up still. I ordered several troops to fan out across the kingdom overnight to gather supplies for the town. Several refugees have already relocated to decrease the economical strain on this town." Jareth held the door to the town hall, following her in and nodding to the people greeting him. It was busy, so busy that Sarah was convinced many of the people in the village had elected to eat with the refugees rather than at home, creating a welcoming atmosphere and a sense of community. Several men and women were putting down different foods and drinks on a large table for others to enjoy. Children were helping the refugees by pouring them drinks and handing them plates and cutlery.

Shaking her head, the brunette pulled her attention back to the conversation. "What about us?"

People gladly ushered the monarch to the head of the line, which he graciously thanked them for. "What do you mean 'us'?"

"Are we staying here?"

"I am needed near the abandoned camp for retrieval of resources and possible further assaults. I will likely travel east afterwards."

"Will I stay here, then? I thought you wanted me to remain closeby."

"You," he said pointedly as he handed her a bowl of soup. "Will be home by then."

"Home? But you said-" her voice rose as she grew defensive and she followed him down the table.

"I know what I said," he interjected as he grabbed each of them a piece of bread and walked off to be seated.

"Seems like you have already made up your mind then," she said with agitation. "If you even gave it a single millisecond of thought at all." Sarah put her bowl down rather loudly before she got too tempted to throw it. "You and your fickle birdbrain will one day give me whiplash." She was annoyed, to put it mildly.

The Goblin King looked at her darkly and grabbed her wrist, forcefully pulling her down onto her seat. She looked at him with wide eyes. "While we are in public you are to treat me with respect, whether your juvenile mood swings will enjoy it or not. I am king and I will not stand for the likes of this puerile mutterance. If I have to discipline you to teach you that lesson, I will. Is that clear?"

The woman pulled her arm loose and leaned on the other, resting her head on her jaw. "Fine."

They ate their breakfast in a charged silence. He wasn't planning on letting her stay here, she just knew it. Jareth still just saw her as the clumsy teen that had somehow stumbled her way through his Labyrinth. Not making any rational decisions. Not knowing what the word 'consequences' meant. Her grip on her spoon tightened in agitation. After finishing her soup she looked up at him. His face was schooled as he was eating and quietly she stood up. Sarah gave him a rather mocking curtsy. "May I be dismissed to get a second serving, Your Majesty?"

Their eyes met. The woman was sure that her face showed her annoyance still. His lips thinned and the man got up, the chair groaning loudly as he did so. Sarah looked with wide eyes as he marched off after he snatched up the empty bowl, a little unsure what to do. Briefly her eyes met some of those watching what was happening. By the time he'd crossed the room she came to a realization. There had been no crawling sensation along her arms and neck, no vibrating on her skin or pull on her being.

What had happened to the binding charm? He was far enough that she should have been hurled across the room by now. Were there conditions to the charm? Did it only activate if Sarah tried to leave? Did magic have such specific conditions or was it more like a two-way rope between them? If that was the case, did he drop the charm? Why? Her mind meandered back to his conditions. "You won't be able to leave my side unless I want you to," she remembered. The woman felt her heart ache.

He didn't want her by his side. That's why the spell wasn't doing anything right now.

It shouldn't really surprise her. Even though she didn't come here voluntarily she hadn't exactly been eager to go back home, despite his clear desire for it. While he was building breath to bring her back home she'd repeatedly disobeyed orders and had been disrespectful. Of course he had to grow sick of it at some point. Yet, that didn't make the current situation any less painful. Quietly, she sank down onto the chair as tears started stinging in her eyes. Sarah would have loved to run away. She wouldn't have known where to, but any place was better than here. Any place where she could curl up to deal with the pain by herself. But she couldn't. Her body wasn't obeying. Instead it decided to shut down on her in the middle of a crowded room. Why did everything always hit so much harder when Jareth was concerned? Keeping her head low she uncomfortably fumbled with her fingers. In what both felt like forever and no time at all he walked back up to the table and put another bowl of soup down with another piece of bread. Without a word he sat back down and continued on his breakfast. Sarah kept quiet with her head tucked, begging herself to calm down. Get a grip. Anything other than descend into yet another mess.

After a minute or two Jareth noticed she still hadn't touched the soup and he looked up at her. Her face was hidden behind her dark and thick curtain of hair. He saw her hands wringing together so tightly that her knuckles turned white. His hand briefly hesitated before he leaned over further and pushed her hair behind her ear. His jaws clenched as he saw wet trails down her cheeks as she nibbled feverishly on her lower lip. Her eyes remained directed down stiffly.

The Goblin King sighed, rubbing his face. "I am sick and tired of these endless sorrows," he confessed, more to himself than to her. He moved his chair closer to her and while ignoring the people that might be looking, gathered her close in a hug. He cradled her head underneath his chin. She didn't resist. She didn't do much of anything. She mostly just let him hold her while one of his hands caressed her hair. After a little while he let her go, taking her hand. "Come on, let's get some air." The woman still didn't respond but silently followed, her hand slackened in his grip. Sarah tried to ignore the curious glances people were giving them, very much aware that she probably looked a right mess at the moment.

His hand was surprisingly warm even through his glove, clasping hers firmly. Jareth led her out of the town and up a steep hill, keeping a firm hold of her hand in case she slipped. Near the top of the hill he walked off the dirt path. Gracefully he descended onto the thick grass, keeping his eyes on the town to offer her some space. Quietly she sat down, pulling her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. He sat next to her. Right next to her. So close that she could feel his warmth, one of his arms behind her back so he could rest on his hands. His legs stretched out in front of him, crossing at the ankle.

For a long time Jareth remained silent. Sarah simply sat there, not wanting to speak and not knowing what to say even if she did want to. Despite the nice scenery she took no time or effort to take a look around. The woman simply stared down at the waving motions of the grass. It was rather comforting with its gentle greens shimmering in the sun.

After what could have been half an hour, she sniffled and rubbed her eyes, stretching her legs in front of her. He still remained silent. It made her wonder what he was thinking. She wanted to look up at him to see if his face would give anything away, but cowardice won this time.

He moved to put one of his hands on his leg next to her, palm upwards in a quiet gesture while the other was still behind her to support him. After a brief moment of hesitation, Sarah took it, holding it quietly. His thumb rubbed a soothing back and forth on the back of her hand. It gave her some courage.

Eventually, Jareth spoke up. "Would you care to enlighten me as to what happened back there?"

"It's stupid," she said softly.

"If it has caused you to be in tears, it's not stupid. Tell me," he said. Sarah gave him a rather unamused side glance. "Please."

"I…" She paused briefly, taking her hand back. "When you walked away I thought of the binding charm you put on me. Or us… I don't know. Even when you were across the room I didn't feel that weird pull from it. You were angry with me… And I felt nothing. Or well, not from the charm at least. Which made me think of what you said, that as long as you wanted me near I couldn't leave." Rather inconveniently, further words died in her throat, leaving her conclusion unspoken.

"So you presumed that I didn't want you near me." The wringing of Sarah's hands intensified and he took her hand again, ceasing the stress she was putting on the digits. "Sarah, it's not that I don't want you close to me because I am feeling cross with you. The binding charm isn't a constant force. Once placed I can activate and deactivate it at will." She stayed quiet and he lifted the hand he'd been leaning on, rubbing her arm. "This is not just about the binding charm, is it?"

Sarah tried to tug back her hand but he tightened his grip, holding on to it. "No," the woman confessed.

"Sarah," he said with a sigh. "I speak over fifty different languages. Yet still I find myself running out of ways to express that I don't want to cut ties with you, it's that I have to, to protect you as well as others. With the numerous centuries I still hope to live, I don't want to carry the burden that I let something happen to you. I won't be able to live with myself."

"You'd never let anything happen to me," Sarah insisted. "But things happen. You could send me home and I could get hit by a bus and die the next day. By your reasoning, wouldn't you still have let something happen to me?"

"Diagaibh tua amin," Jareth muttered to himself. He let himself fall down onto his back. The wind gently brushed past them, the grass producing a quiet whisper in the air.

"Wouldn't you want to keep me close?" She continued, grateful for his reclined position so he wouldn't see the blush dusting her cheeks. "So you can make sure nothing will happen to me?"

For a moment a sadness overcame him. "Eua rixo uair níos mó," he whispered before shaking his head. "Sarah, you have an incredible imagination. Why is it that in this case everything is so black and white to you?"

Hearing the rather condescending tone in his voice the woman felt frustration bubble up and she turned to him, narrowing her eyes. "Stop talking to me like I'm a child, Jareth. I'm sick and tired of it. I'm a grown woman."

Seeing her glower down at him he sat upright and cupped her cheek. "Manka om nae amin quena utae mo sina re." The brunette stared at him. She had no idea what he'd just said, yet she found herself strangely speechless. Perhaps it was due to the intensity in his eyes when he'd said it. Perhaps it was because despite the seemingly powerful words, he had whispered them to her. Or maybe it was his warm hand on her cheek or his sudden proximity. His thumb gently brushed her cheek, his piercing eyes for once on equal height to hers. A few moments passed before his hand fell from her face, leaving it surprisingly cold all of a sudden. "Nevertheless, let's go back. I have much to do today and relatively little time to do it in." He got up and started to walk off.

Feeling that strange tingle in her body from the spell she scrambled up quickly and hurried after him. "Why do you keep talking in different languages these days," she demanded. "What did that mean?" He kept walking and she carefully made her way down the dirt path. This wasn't fair. He couldn't just utter those words so meaningfully while said meaning was completely lost on her. "Jareth! Tell me!"

The Goblin King kept marching. Hearing the dirt behind him scrape and tumble he held out an arm just in time to catch Sarah from nearly toppling down over him. "You will know in time," he said cryptically.

—-

Jareth had been busy assigning the people to travel to alternative towns and cities, which had been a strange sort of mix between a formal meeting and something that reminded Sarah of forming teams in school for dodgeball. She had mostly tagged along, standing around rather uselessly but helping where she could. After that Sarah was escorted to the house they'd stayed in while Jareth went to instruct and train the men of the First Regiment.

Sarah wasn't sure what Alana had been up to. She'd been absent all day until dinner.

The last phrase or sentence Jareth had spoken to her this morning was still on her mind. In a strange way, his touch still lingered on her cheek. She picked at her food silently.

"Sarah dear, are you alright," Alana asked worriedly.

"Peachy," the woman mumbled. Looking up at Jareth he gave her a questioning raise of his eyebrow. "Alana…" She shifted her attention back to the pale lady who met her gaze with wide eyes while reaching for a drink. "Jareth won't tell me. He said something to me this morning in that language you guys speak all the time."

"Sarah," Jareth said in a warning tone.

"I don't remember all of it, but it ended in something like "utay mo sina re". What does that mean?"

Alana's eyebrows rose up to her hairline as her wide eyes shifted to Jareth's. Her drink spluttered over the bottom half of her face in an uncharacteristic show of clumsiness. The Goblin King gave his sister a dark look, clearly insisting not to say a word. She scrambled to grab a napkin and covered her mouth as she coughed. Once settled she dabbed her mouth with the napkin and put it back down on her lap. "Ah, excuse me," she said softly as she quickly directed her gaze down.

"Well," Sarah pressed, looking back and forth between the two siblings.

Alana quickly rose to her feet. "Would anyone like some more vegetables?" The woman grabbed a ladle.

"He didn't put another charm on me, did he?" Sarah looked at them and narrowed her eyes when Alana almost knocked over her drink. Jareth grabbed the cup before it could topple.

"Jareth, mani naa autien ne? Mani ume utae un?" He simply put his forefinger in front of his mouth as a sign to keep quiet.

The brunette pursed her lips petulantly. "I will keep ask-"

"Sarah," Jareth interrupted. "Leave it."

She pressed her lips together and frowned, putting her fork down and pushing the plate away dismissively. "Why is no one telling me shit?" Her voice was venomous.

"Language," Alana squeaked uncomfortably.

Jareth pushed the food back to her, insisting quietly to finish her meal. Uncomfortably, Alana sank back down to her seat and put down the ladle. She assumed an awkward frozen pose as if one wrong move would blow up the dining table.

"Sarah, could you give us a minute please," Jareth asked.

The woman glared at him and got up, marching out of the room.

—-

Sarah couldn't help but think of the lady in the camp again. She'd seen plenty of films with violence. Murder scenarios, war movies… But seeing violence and death first hand was nothing like it. It was haunting. The attack at the camp had been sudden. While she wanted to help Jareth with the fight for his throne and his people, she was wondering if she was ready to do so. What if she'd just be in the way? What if she was just a distraction or added stress? Her mind wandered to scenarios where she would accidentally get him hurt - or even killed. She sat motionlessly on top of her bed, legs pulled up and arms wrapped around her knees. Her mind started to run in circles, creating more and more doubt if she should be pushing to stay here at all.

But then she thought about the times she'd seen Jareth exhausted, pale or upset. She still vividly remembered that time he'd stormed into her apartment and scared her to death. The woman also thought back to how he'd walked up to her yesterday. Deathly pale, trembling and probably close to passing out but still pressing to get things done. For as far as Sarah knew, this war had been going on for at least two or three years now. Even if he was decades old, years of fighting still had to be tough, especially if he walked out of battles and confrontation like she'd witnessed.

During the times he'd visited her at her home she had been happy to talk, drink and joke around with him. He'd seemed to have been eager to be entertained and to relax. However, now that she was here, all those things seemed like such insignificant efforts. If she'd put her mind to it, surely she could do more for him than just being… there? Her mind wandered to how he'd looked at her this morning. It was indescribable. It was…

A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. "Sarah? May I enter?"

"Sure," she said, remaining in her curled up position.

The blonde woman walked in quietly, closing the door after her. "Hello dear, are you alright?"

Sarah looked down as she thought of what to say. "I'm okay."

Alana walked over to her and pressed a kiss to her head before sitting down next to her. "Things seem somewhat complicated between you and Jareth."

"You noticed that, huh?"

The woman smiled kindly. "Jareth and I talked for a little while. He brought you something that he said was sure to cheer you up. Why don't you head to the sitting room? I will give you two some space and make myself scarce for now."

"Yeah…" She looked up at Alana with a small smile. "I'll do that. I'll be right there." Alana walked back to the door. "Thank you, by the way, for everything." Alana smiled gently before she walked out and Sarah let out a deep sigh before crawling off the bed.

Walking over the sitting room she could hear Alana and Jareth talk. The moment she walked in, Alana jumped up. "Well, Jareth, I will leave you two to it. Sarah, enjoy your evening!" The pale woman practically frolicked out of the room, the sound of the front door opening and closing soon after. Sarah met Jareth's gaze with slightly lifted eyebrows.

"Alana had other places to be," Jareth said as he took a sip of his drink.

Sarah walked over to him. "Alana seems to be working a lot."

"I never said it was work," he said cryptically. Sarah looked at him confused and slightly concerned. "It's fine, drama queen. During war times everyone needs to have moments of relief." The man chuckled as he saw realization dawn on her face.

With a blush dusting her cheeks Sarah chuckled and sat down next to him, on the far end of the couch, against the arm rest. "I can't believe pure and innocent Alana is getting more action than me."

"I can remedy that," he suggested with his trademark playfulness.

"Pass." She nodded to the bottle on the table. "You'd need more than that to get into these pants." Jareth held out a hand to a crate full of bottles on the opposite side of the room. She giggled. "Still not enough."

"Sarah, please, you can't hold your liquor that well. You'll be in a coma before you can finish a second bottle."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Are you looking to be challenged?" She shrugged. "I am not challenging you to drink yourself into a stupor." He grabbed an empty glass that had been patiently waiting on the table. He poured her a drink but quickly moved the glass when she moved to take it. She looked up at him rather dryly. "I challenge you to have an evening without dramatics. No crying, no fighting, no arguing… But I will be lenient on screaming in certain scenarios."

Sarah gasped, laughing. "Oh I am going to need every single one of those bottles to help me forget you said that."

He gave her a playful and daring look over the rim of his glass, his legs stretching out and crossing by the ankle as he nestled into the corner of the couch. The blonde patiently held her drink hostage, swirling its contents teasingly. It had been a long time since she saw him so at ease, so playful and relaxed. Even though she was quite clearly staring at him, unlike other people she'd known his confidence never faltered. If anything, he only seemed to grow more cocky. Languidly he shifted on the couch and eased a little closer. His eyes briefly lowered as he moved her drink a little closer. Pointedly he looked back at her, quietly making it clear that accepting the drink would include her accepting his challenge.

The woman narrowed her eyes and grabbed the drink, downing it in one go. "Hit me," she hissed playfully.

He poured her another, topped himself off and clinked their glasses together.

—-

Sarah opened her eyes slowly. Outside things were dark and if she followed gut instinct it was probably about six in the morning. She was blissfully warm but her head was pounding so hard she was genuinely a little concerned it might actually explode. Groaning, she raised one of her hands to rub her eyes. Slowly becoming aware of her surroundings she looked to her side. She never thought she'd recognize anyone by the hollow of their neck, but here she was. "God, you're such a perv," she moaned. Despite his proximity she didn't feel like making a fuss now. "Do we have to get up yet?"

"Yes," the man said as he rolled onto his back. "But let's take five or ten more minutes."

"I thought that those with leadership positions were supposed to give a good example."

"Bite me."

Sarah rolled onto her side to fully face him. "How many bottles did we finish?"

"Four I think, maybe five."

"Did I win?"

Jareth slung his free arm to lay over his head. "I don't know, Sarah. Two bottles in, things started to get hazy even for me."

The woman looked down at the blanket resting halfway his chest. "When did you take off your shirt?"

"Stop asking questions."

She giggled. "Wow, I got you wasted," the woman mumbled sleepily. "Is it just me or are we still drunk?" He remained silent. "Jareth?"

"Darling, what did I just say about the questions?"

"Don't call me that." Her voice slurred enough that even she could hear it. Yes, she was definitely still drunk. "Could you at least cover yourself up? It's very inappropriate to be indecent in front of a lady."

He looked down at her, slightly straining his eyes against the sunlight drifting in through the window. "Which lady? Surely you're not referring to yourself?" The woman bristled at that, her eyes narrowing to slits. She reached out for the blanket but with inhuman speed he grasped her wrist. "Leave it, it's warm enough as is."

"Fine," Sarah muttered. Her eyes felt heavy. It felt like she had been awake the entire night. She attempted to wake up, willing her eyes open once she noticed they'd fallen shut. It wasn't until then that she'd noticed he'd let go of her wrist. It wasn't until at least five seconds after that, that she noticed her hand had come to rest on his stomach. Curiously she touched the skin on his stomach as it rose and lowered with his breath. It wasn't likely she'd be in this sort of situation any time soon, anyway. Besides, he was as sleepy as she was, if not more so. Surely he wasn't going to notice?

With drunken bravado she let her fingertips touch the soft unmarred skin. Her gaze shot up briefly towards him, but his eyes were closed. Her cheeks started to burn as her eyes lowered again. His muscles weren't too defined, but the lines were there, curving under pale skin. He simply lay there, arm over his head with his eyes closed. It was a rare though fascinating way of seeing Jareth, half asleep and intoxicated. She repressed a chuckle at his messy hair but couldn't help but smile.

"See anything you like?"

Looking back down from his hair she could see him looking at her. "You mean that bird's nest you call a hairdo?"

"Be coy all you like, but you're the one getting handsy here." Sarah pulled her hand back, more than a little embarrassed. He let out a disappointed groan. "I didn't tell you to stop."

Playfully she grinned. "You didn't tell me to proceed."

The man eyed her. "I know you well enough to know that telling you that will only result in sass. Or physical violence."

"Try me."

A lazy grin spread on his lips. Rolling over he slung his arm over her side. The woman was a little surprised. Jareth wasn't that physical in showing affection, at least not casually so. Her head throbbed so aggressively that it robbed her of her train of thought. She stiffened, sobering a little as she felt his arm pull back a little, his hand on her waist and confidently moving just a little further down to the swell of her hips, but not quite on them. "Relax, I'll be good," he muttered when she grew rigid.

Suddenly the door swung open and Sarah looked up. "Jareth, Sarah, time to get-" Alana froze mid sentence and fell silent, her mouth dropping. Similarly to Sarah her cheeks reddened and she put her hand on her chest. "Oh Gods, I'm so sorry. I'll…" Alana froze for a second, letting out a breath before she quickly closed the door. The sound of her heels disappeared into the distance.

"Do you think she got a nice eyeful," he asked in that same sleepy slur. "She got back about five minutes ago."

Mortified Sarah quickly threw his arm from her waist. "Jareth, she needs to know."

"Know what?"

"That nothing happened!"

"Why?"

She groaned and rolled onto her back. "Oh god, how am I ever going to look Alana in the eye again?"

"I don't understand why you're so upset. There's nothing wrong with a roguishly handsome man and a beautiful young woman to consensually-"

Sarah let out a scream of frustration then. Jareth moaned as he grasped for his head. "Birdbrain, I swear to God."

Jareth sighed in disappointment. "Very well then," he conceded. "Let's get this day started."

Relieved, Sarah quickly got up to create some distance in between them, reaching for her heavy head while lightly swaying on her feet. The Goblin King got up too. He touched his temples and let out a slow breath, after which he seemed to feel better. She walked over to a pincher of water and a few glasses. "If you ask nicely I can get rid of most of the intoxication for you," he offered as he magically fixed his hair.

Despite her affinity with being as independent as possible, the headache was killing her and she was happy to offer some dignity in exchange for relief. "Please, Your Majesty, can you get rid of my headache?"

"Of course." He walked over to her. Pushing her hair aside he put his fingers against her temples.

Sarah could feel warmth ebb into her temples and her eyes slipped closed. A strange prickling sensation and tension ebbed through her head that reminded her a little of whiplash. After a brief moment of discomfort the headache slipped away like water down a drain. She let out a moan of relief. Opening her eyes she met with amused mismatched eyes. He lowered his hands and with a wink used one of his fingers to tilt her head up by her chin. "Magic fingers," he said.

The woman huffed as he grabbed a shirt and walked out. "Why me?"