Sarah had fallen asleep soon after that. Jareth had not. He lay there, holding her as she slept, basking in her presence in his room, in his bed. At least this little event told him how he would react should she enter his chambers. He had smirked in wry amusement at the thought, had simply lay there, petting her soft, naked skin until her scent, the sound of her breaths, slowly had him drifting off as well.

Morning seemed to come too soon, in the form of a painfully bright beam of light hitting him on one side of his face. He groaned, turning his face away from the light. He must have forgotten to close his curtains last evening, he decided. He tried to ignore it, wishing to return to the dreams he'd been having. Pleasant dreams where Sarah foolishly wandered into his room and spend the whole of the evening in his bed, moaning and pleading for him.

Of course it was a dream. It simply wasn't possible that the girl would disobey a command like that, although she'd had always loved to defy him. Just as he finally began to doze off once more, warmth settled over him, giving him an inviting kiss. That kiss invited the villain in him to come out to play while he was still too tired to fight it. Something inside him relaxed, rather than growing tense with anger, even as two hands gripped his wrists, and he felt himself pinned to the bed. Still, the sensation of being captive caused him enough annoyance that his eyes snapped open and he growled at whoever was man-handling him.

Not man-handling, he decided when he realized that brilliant, beloved green eyes stared back down at him, dazzling, defiant, mischievous-familiar. His heart pounded in his chest, eyes widening in surprise at finding that gaze peering down into him in such a manner. He glanced down, finding her kneeling, leaning over him, poised over him. He moaned and throbbed in response, eyes falling completely closed when her moist entrance came in contact with the tip of him. "Sarah..." He rasped out, gripping her knees.

Her lips grazed his cheek and she spoke softly, even as she lowered herself down onto him. "We...need to talk, Goblin King." His eyes snapped open to stare up at her in disbelief. Surely she didn't think they were going to talk now. If she did, he was going to remove her ability to speak completely. He was moments away from flipping them so that he was in control when she bared her teeth in a vicious smile, her hands tightening at his wrists, pressing them harder into the soft mattress. "But not right now."

Her lips came down on his, and she kissed him how he'd kissed her the night before, her lips demanding, daring him to challenge her. Her tongue slipped inside his mouth when his mouth opened in a moan – responding to her body sliding down to take the last of him into her. She tore her mouth from his, squeezing his wrists tighter still, holding him pinned against his own bed. Those green eyes met his, wild, feral and she dared him to fight her, her swollen lips in an equally wide grin.

He wanted to meet her challenge, to struggle, but he couldn't, didn't want to. Rather than fight against her, he tilted his head back, baring his throat in submission. "Precious..."

That grin broadened and she dipped her head, her teeth gently clamping onto the flesh of his throat. He felt her tongue run over the skin and moaned, arching into her. It was a very good thing that she didn't want to talk right now. He was more than fairly certain that any attempt he made at speech would come out incoherent, gibberish at best. That idea was affirmed when she pulled back, scraping her teeth along his skin and lifted her face to look down at his. Those beautiful eyes, those wonderful, glittering, defiant, green eyes...how he loved them.

"Well then..." she said, her tongue coming out and licking her lips as she leaned down to kiss him once more. "Enjoy the ride..."

...

Jareth thoroughly enjoyed the ride, if Sarah said so herself. Now, he lay dozing once more, in a boneless sprawl beside her, one arm around her, resting possessively upon her waist. His thin lips were curled up in the faintest smile, his wild hair disheveled, no doubt from how she couldn't keep herself from playing with it.

Sarah, meanwhile, just stared at his sleeping face, still caressing that rumpled hair, reassuring both of them of the other's presence. Now and then, even in his sleep, the arm he had tossed over her waist would tense, pulling her closer, until he rose from his sleep enough to realize she was still there, then he would drift off once more.

As she lay in his arms, watching the face of her lover sometimes twisting into adorably juvenile expressions. He had some rather endearing habits when he slept. Now and then, his nose would wrinkle as though he smelled something bad, his lips would purse, and then split into a smile. Over all, it was far more fun watching him than contemplating sleep. Besides, her mind was too busy racing as she lay there.

She could remember. Everything was there, not just her time since she'd been cursed, not just her life before. Everything. Including how she'd wound up here, the events leading up to her waking up in the arms of the Goblin King.

Jareth.

It was a thing of wonder to her, waking up like this. She'd stared at Jareth for a long time after her initial waking, her mind reeling when she realized she could see his face in the dim light coming through the curtains. She'd wanted to wake him then, just to see if he was really there, but she stopped.

Now, tears gathered in her eyes as she stared at his face. Stubbornly, she blinked them away, her lips curling in a smile. She could remember how he'd been wonderful to her, patient, caring. She knew that until last evening, the villain that was an intrinsic part of him had remained mostly hidden. Now and then it popped out, rearing it's seductive head, but he'd tried to protect her and quite probably, himself as well.

He'd been afraid of her memory returning, afraid of her leaving him, and she knew it. She understood why, as well. She'd never had to prove to him that she valued him. He'd proven to her again and again, how he valued her, even last evening, when he'd been furious with her, he'd treated her so carefully. He'd tried for so long to contain that darker part of himself, the part of him that had frightened her – intrigued her – when she was fifteen, the part of him who she know understood held the key to herself.

She was the most like herself when she was battling against him and they both knew it. He'd gone a month hiding that part of him, not because it would return her memory, but because he didn't want her only memories of him to be of the him he thought she didn't care for.

The leash snapped last night. He had scared her a bit, but she loved him. She trusted him. Never, in all of their time together had he harmed her, not even when he played the antagonist in the story. She didn't think he had it in him to harm her. He would always be a little dark, sometimes a bit frightening, but those were some of the things she'd always loved about him. Part of the reason that she'd always craved him. No one in the Above could walk in both the shadows and light in equal measure.

The sunlight hitting one side of his face had shown her his two halves at once and he'd been so beautiful, caught between dark and light that she'd wanted him.

To her surprise, he'd let her have him. He'd bared his throat to her, giving her complete control. She knew he could have broken her grip on his wrists easily enough, had dared him to, yet he'd remained pinned by her on his silk-covered bed while she ravished him.

Again.

She blushed, a shy smile turning up her lips. Oh, she was certain she could happily stay right there where she lay forever, snuggled up to the side of the man who made her feel things that she'd almost come to believe she could no longer feel. No man in her realm had ever aroused her heart, mind, and body like this man did. Even when she'd been without her memories, she somehow knew that.

She propped up on her elbow, looking down at the peaceful face of her lover. Gently, she brushed a crumpled tendril of his hair from his cheek, smiling softly down at him. Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

As he woke, his nose scrunched up like a child's and his mouth opened in a wide yawn, which he hid behind his hand. Those mismatched eyes sleepily opened, still heavy, and his lips began to pull into a smile, only to freeze, slipping away. His eyes sharpened, his expression grew wary. "Sarah..."

He must not have realized that this morning wasn't just a dream. She cupped her free hand against his cheek, giving him a small smile. "Jareth."

His hand lifted, fingers lightly touching the corner of her eye. He licked his lips before he spoke, which made her want to kiss him. "Your sight-" he whispered, his voice cracking a bit.

She nodded, turning her face and lightly kissing his palm. "I've been watching you for awhile. All morning really. Since before..." Heat crawled up to her cheeks and she knew she was blushing long before amusement flickered over his handsome features.

"Before you ravished me?" he teased, using the arm that was still at her waist to pull her to the bed before he popped up onto his own elbow, leaning over her – ever the predator.

She looked up at him, feeling a bit shy. She played with the loose strands of his hair which were tickling at her collarbone and she nervously worried her lip. She had to tell him. "I...remember everything, Jareth," she said softly, searching his eyes. There was a flicker of fear before it was hidden. "Six years ago, when I wished Toby away, picking up the crystal in the park, Toby wishing me here. Everything."

He sighed, resting his forehead against her own. "Everything...?"

"Yes. Everything."

Slowly, he began pulling away from her. "I...see-"

"I don't think you do." She gripped the strands she'd been so gentle with, using them to pull him down to her. He wasn't expecting the movement and wound up going down on her fully, drawing a hiss from the sovereign when their skin pressed together. Before he could extract himself, she wrapped her arms around him tightly, not letting him pull away. He started trying to raise off her once again and she kicked her legs up around his waist, watching his eyes cloud as he wavered. "I remember everything. How gentle you've been with me, since I came here. How protective. How you held me every single evening we spent in Avalon, but never attempted to seduce me."

His eyes closed and he turned his head away from her. "Sarah, last night-"

"I defied you. Considering how furious you were with Alura when that snotty little twit came in here, you could have responded differently. You could have hurled me out of your room. When I saw how furious you were, I expected you to." His face twisted into a pained expression and he pressed it into her shoulder so she couldn't see. "I didn't expect..."

"I took advantage of you." He sounded bitter, cold. He was trembling from trying to keep the position he held while she clung to him as she did. "You could not see, could not remember what our relationship had been, and I took advantage of that."

"Jareth, for being so intelligent, sometimes you can be remarkably obtuse." He pulled back, staring down at her, stunned as she gave him a small smile. "Silly man, I tried finding men who could measure up in my world. I tried everything I could think of, looking for someone who might take your place. A man who could be a villain and a hero, and everyone fell short." She searched his face, seeing the hope that was finally breaking through. "Don't say you didn't watch me. I felt you."

He sighed, cupping her face. "Sarah, darling..."

"Have I exhausted you again? Are you weary from trying so hard to be a knight when you are mostly a villainous king?" She held his hand to her face, closing her eyes.

He gave a sigh, coming to rest against her once again, letting her legs around him relax, but she didn't remove them from around her waist. There was a faintly amused smile playing on his lips and he gave her a heated look. "You exhausted me, alright, but not from trying to live up to your...expectations."

She blushed, hiding her face, then glanced up at him, through the veil of her lashes. "Can't keep up with a mortal, your highness?" She asked, tightening her legs and mock thrusting against his firm stomach.

A surge of pleasure shot through her when he actually quivered. Suddenly, his hands were on her hips and he pulled her more firmly against him and she felt the evidence of his own arousal press upwards against her. Those hands slid from her hip, up her torso to her neck and she felt herself quiver in response, stating at her toes and ending with her hair.

For the love of God, he made her hair quiver!

His lips brushed her ear lightly as he leaned down to speak to her. "It's been awhile since I've had a lover, Precious, but I assure you, I will meet any challenge you give me." He pulled back, his eyes amused. "But don't hold your breath on getting me beneath you every time. Especially since there are plenty of positions we haven't tried yet."

Her cheeks burned red and she turned her head to stare at him, startled and a bit embarrassed. A gentle kiss on her brow eased her galloping heart and a hand upon her hair soothed her embarrassment.

"Worry not, Sarah. While I would be more than happy to have another such romp before we leave the bed this morning, we have to do that hateful little thing called 'talk'." There was wry amusement and no small amount of dismay in his voice. Gently, he brushed his lips against hers and lifted himself off of her. He rose out of the bed, moving towards the wardrobe. He pulled down a silk dressing robe and walked back towards her, wrapping it around her shoulders.

It was comfortably large on her, much like her poets shirts, and it smelled of leather and spices. She pulled it tighter around herself and pressed her nose into the silk, hoping he wouldn't notice she was huffing his clothing. A soft chuckle told her that it hadn't escaped him. She blushed, using the fabric to shield her cheeks. She drew comfort from the smell, it made her feel like he still had his arms around her.

A hand being offered to her drew her attention, and she lifted her gaze, finding Jareth smiling kindly down at her. He was dressed casually, in dark gray wool breeches and a creamy silk shirt. There was a bit of anxiety in his gaze. She wondered if her own eyes reflected the same up at him. It had been easy enough to hide behind the sex when he'd first awaken. Even without it, while they were in his bed, they'd been careful not to broach certain topics which had no place there. Giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile, even if it did feel wobbly, she set her hand in his, letting him pull her to her feet.

He led her to a door, and then through it, revealing another bedroom, and suddenly, a memory from only a week ago resurfaced, from when Morghaine and Alura had arrived. When they'd inquired about the queen's suite, Jareth had mentioned...

She looked up at him, surprised, heart clenching in her chest. He wasn't looking at her, his gaze resolutely forward. "This room..."

His gaze flickered towards her, and he gave an ironic half-smile. "You look surprised, Sarah. Why is that?"

She moved away from him, opening the wardrobe, finding dresses tailored to fit her nearly perfectly, in colors that she favored and flattered her. On the vanity table were fragrances from the above, ones she owned herself, ones she preferred. She also saw a collection of face paints which were perfect for her coloring. The whole room was open and airy, brightly lit, draped in sheer silks, with sheets on the bed she knew just by looking cost more than her father's monthly paycheck. This room was designed especially for her. The queen's suite.

She turned towards him, awareness weakening her. Her hands were shaking.

"If you do not like it, I can have it redecorated." His voice was quiet, his eyes hidden by his bangs. He lifted his face, his expression neutral, as though he were preparing himself for a death blow.

Her heart ached when she realized that was just what he was doing. She moved quickly towards him, grabbing his hands and holding on tightly. "Don't change anything, Jareth. It's...it's perfect." She pressed her face against the part of his chest left exposed by his shirt and felt tears pierce her eyes. She felt his arms come around her and a few of them slipped free. She felt him press a firm kiss against the crown of her head before his hands moved to cup her face, the pads of his thumbs brushing the escapee's from her cheeks.

"As much as I would like to examine this reaction further, we must talk." He helped her to a chair and once she was settled on the cushion, he sat in one across from her. His elbows came to rest on his knees, his hands dangling between as he leaned forward, seeming to focus on the ground, obviously pondering where to start.

She leaned forward, gently taking his hands in hers.

"Do you remember the conversation we had upon your arrival, Sarah?" His eyes lifted and the look in them made her slightly uncomfortable.

"Which part?"

"The rules regarding mortals in the Underground." He lifted his gaze to look at her, his eyes a bit murky. She nodded and he took a shaky breath. "You've been here a month under my protection because your mind and sight had been stolen. Now that they've returned..."

She lowered her gaze. "I'm not under your protection anymore." It hurt a little to realize that. There was an odd sensation inside her and she inclined her head. It was strange, but having experienced it so frequently since she'd lost her sight told her what it was. "You're sad," she whispered, her brow creasing.

He looked up at her. "By law, I am supposed to send you home here and now. You have not come here as an immigrant, you came here for protection and..."

"Toby wished me here so I'd be safe." She said softly, a sad smile on her lips. Suddenly, she realized that he'd done that a month ago. He'd been waiting, having not heard from her for a full month. If Morgaine knew enough to curse her, what might have become of her brother. She didn't realize that her hands had tightened on Jareth's until he spoke to her.

"Sarah, what's wrong?"

She met his gaze, trembling. "Toby. How could I have forgotten about that." She turned her face away, worry gripping her. "He's been waiting, not knowing what's happened to me...He doesn't have a clue that I'm okay, that I'm even still alive."

His expression grew resigned and the sensation of sadness coming from him grew sharper. "He's probably very worried." Jareth agreed, his voice quiet.

"What if...What if your mother went after him? Or my parents?" She looked at his face, seeing he already knew what she was going to say. His eyes were murky, pained, but he wasn't trying to stop her. She hated the pain on his face. "Jareth, I have to make sure they're okay. Please, understand. They're my family, Jareth."

He kissed both of her hands, then stood, his face becoming neutral. He was trying to hide his pain from her so that it wouldn't color her decision and she knew it. "Say your right words, Sarah." He said quietly. To her, he seemed like a man awaiting his execution. His eyes had that same haunted look they'd had when they'd stood opposite each other in the Escher Room.

Her throat closed and she stood, still holding his hands. How could she not have noticed then how frail, how brittle he looked. She didn't want to say those words, in fact she couldn't. They didn't even rise to her lips as she stared up at him. She closed the small amount of distance between them, gently setting a hand on either side of his face. His eyes fell closed in response to the touch and she felt. It was as though the filter which had been hiding the vast spectrum of his emotions from her had fallen and she was hit with a tidal wave of pain, sadness, and darkness. She stared up at him, tears in her eyes.

"You should hurry and say your right words, my dear, before I decide I can't let you go." He gave a small, weak smile. "My villainous self is doing battle with the knight and he's winning. He wants me to occupy your mouth so you can't speak. To distract you from your goal once more. So if you wish to go home, you must say your right words."

She pressed up onto her tip toes, grazing his mouth gently with hers. She felt him grow tense and pulled back, resting her head against his strong shoulder, wrapping her arms around him. "With the return of my memories and sigh, I release you from your promise, Goblin King. I no longer need your protection." But I want it, I want you. Please don't hate me for this. "Please send me back to the Above."

His pain swelled but she held on, forcing herself to endure it, even as it grew so agonizing that the tears which stood in her eyes fell free. She knew that some of the pain was her own, but his own feelings seemed to be so strong, she couldn't tell the difference. His hands came up, resting on her shoulders and she felt herself slowly fading. "As you wish, Sarah." He whispered, his voice cracking.

She lifted her face, reaching up to touch his face, seeing his own eyes seemed unnaturally bright from what she recognized as unshed tears. Moments before she could make contact, his world vanished completely.

Sarah found herself standing in the gardens of the hospital, dressed once again in that horrid hospital gown, which itched after having the silk against her skin. Her heart felt bruised, but still, these feelings seemed like a ripple on a calm pond, compared to the turbulent sea of emotions that had washed over her from Jareth. Closing her eyes, she took a soothing breath, wiping the tears from her eyes. She turned towards the hospital, moving towards it, her slipper-clad feet moving quickly and with great purpose. Maybe her brain wasn't working quite right, but she kept walking, ignoring the nurses and doctors who were trying to stop her.

Her feet led her unerringly to her room, where she slowly pushed the door open, viewing the scene before her.

Toby had his face pressed into their father's shoulder, sobbing as though his heart was broken. Several people were asking where she was. It didn't seem possible. Had Jareth done this? She glanced at the calendar and mentally counted days, realizing that it was the date her brother had wished her away, likely only moments afterward.

I've reordered time...

She smiled a bit, moving towards them. "I'm here, Dad," she said quietly.

The words stilled everyone in the room. Several heads whipped towards where she stood, but she only had eyes for the distressed little blond boy. Those swollen, red-rimmed blue eyes lifted and stared directly into her own. They widened as though startled and he broke free of their father's startled grip, rushing towards her. She knelt to meet him, hugging him tightly to her when his arms went around her neck. She put her lips beside his ear and whispered, "thank you."

"He fixed it," he whispered, tears wetting the cheap cotton of her hospital gown. He lifted his head and she smiled a bit sadly, wiping his nose with the sleeve.

"That he did," she agreed. She hugged her brother tightly, hoping, though perhaps in vain, that she might return to the man she loved, her lover, sometime soon.

...

Jareth had taken to his owl form and fled the room as soon as she had gone. Now, he flew into the wind, trying to fight against the pain within by exerting himself. He was running away and knew that he could only run for so long before the grief he was trying to flee overwhelmed him and he went slipping into that deep pain he'd felt the last time she'd left. Her tears as she'd vanished had caused the villain and knight to agree in unison that she shouldn't be going anywhere, but she'd said the words, and it wasn't in him to deny her.

He simply hoped that when he returned to the castle, he didn't find his mother once again waiting at the entrance. He'd been trying to shield himself, hoping that no one would notice the turbulence whirling within him.

How had everything gone so wrong, he wondered. He landed atop a high tree, staring off at the horizon, glad for his owl form. Owls did not cry, so this form contained the hurt inside him far better than his other form. Still, even as he'd changed into this form, he'd given a shriek of upset and flown from her open bedroom window.

That had been more than an hour ago. He had pushed himself as hard as he could, trying to forget but the memory of Sarah tormented him. He knew that that precious one would want to go home when she remembered everything. He had known that getting too close to her would be a mistake. She had given him no promises. Her worry and fear for her brother overpowered whatever feelings she had for him and she'd released him from his obligation, asking him to send her home.

Still...

She hadn't said the same words as before, stealing any power he had over her. She'd merely asked him to send her home. She hadn't demanded, hadn't even made it the form of a wish. She'd trusted him to send her home without those words.

His mind went back, remembering the night before, when he'd looked upon her, standing in his room and the fury had broken free. The following chain of events were burned into him – the subtle scent of her fear, followed by the sharp scent of arousal pouring off of her. At first, she'd been uncertain, but by the time he had her on the bed-

His lips pulled into a frown when another memory scratched at him. When he'd first found her there, the doors slamming shut, him moving towards her with the intent to harm or seduce – he hadn't been certain at the time which – she had said something to him.

She had said he'd told her to go into his room.

His wings gave a faint rustle as he left the tree, heading back to the castle and chewing on that one little tidbit of information. He had, most assuredly, not told her to go into his room. In fact, he'd told her several times to not enter it, in fact. It was a rule that did not change with the location. While he'd often visited her room, he had never allowed her in his. He'd clearly forbidden it, fearing his own reaction to her presence there.

Why would she think he had?

He landed on the balcony and between one breath and the next, was striding at his full height into the throne room. His knew his expression was a little dark as he moved. Upon entering, he found a fading, faded version of himself sitting upon his throne. The goblins were looking upon the artifice in worry, fear. When they noticed him, they scrambled towards him, putting him between them.

Jareth looked at this paler version of himself and snarled viciously, drawing it's attention. It looked up at him and he was surprised to find pain and anguish as real as his own on it's face. "Release me." It whispered, it's voice the barest echo. "Magic is not meant to be condensed into solid form for so long. I beg you free me from this trapping..."

He frowned, looking at the weakening illusion. "You were created into a likeness of myself by my mother. Why?"

It lowered it's eyes. "She had hoped to use your rage to frighten the girl from your side, leaving her exposed and helpless. She believes that if the girl were out of the way, you would move past her. I know better. She gave me enough of you that I know the truth. She had to so that the girl would not sense something wrong with the illusion. I could not disobey her orders – she formed me into what I am. I beg you, release me from this prison before what is left of me is consumed while trying to maintain this artifice-"

Jareth reached out with a lash of power, destroy what remained of the shell that trapped the magic. It gave a sigh of relief and finally faded fully, and he felt it being reabsorbed into the magic which was the Underground. He frowned deeply, looking around as his goblins continued to cower behind him. Heaving a sigh, he kicked one, an old signal between himself and his subjects that everything was fine.

The goblin gave a cheer as it sailed through the air.

He wound up kicking several more, a few by request, before he moved and sat upon his throne, picking up the crop-like scepter. He tapped it against his thigh restlessly.

For now, all was well. He had no idea how long it would be as such, however.

One of the goblins brought him a snifter of brandy, then scampered off to indulge in their own ale and spirits, which he knew oft-times tasted much like old gym socks smelled. Jareth silently watched the crowd of rowdy creatures, swirling the liquor in it's small glass, his face a mask of calm. He knew, however, that there was a storm brewing beneath the surface.

A goblin crept towards him, it's eyes watery and worried. "Kinga? Where'd the Lady go?"

He turned towards the creature, a bit surprised to see genuine worry in it's eyes. Just with those words, the flurry of movement in the room had stopped. Of course, he'd forgotten that these creatures loved her, too.

Jareth sighed, lifting a hand and rubbing his temple. His head hurt, his heart felt bruised, and yet...after the initial pain, it had faded to a dull ache. He was used to the pain her absence brought him that even after the intense joy of having her at his side the past few weeks, the heart-wound she'd left before hadn't fully healed, so it was a bit like setting a broken bone. A brief period of intense pain, followed by weeks of soreness.

He gave the creature a look of understanding. "Lady Sarah is fine. Her sight has returned and with it, her memories. She is no longer in need of my protection and asked to go home to be with her family."

"But...Lady loves Kinga."

He examined this small one closely, frowning a bit. Goblins were rowdy and sometimes malicious, but they had an innocence that many creatures of the Underground lacked. This court lacked the drama and intrigue which was a wide-spread plague in many. It was one of the reasons he'd chosen to become Goblin King. Many of them were also empathic, which came as a result of what they did. They sensed before a child was wished away, went to the location and waited patiently for it to happen.

Of course they would have been able to sense the telltale feelings between himself and Sarah.

"Sarah...has a family of her own in the Above, which needs reassurance that she is safe." A frown tugged down his lips. Still, if that illusion version of himself had not lied, she was far from 'safe'. His hand came up to cover his mouth and he stared into nothing, considering that. He tapped the scepter against his thigh in an agitated manner for several tense moments while the goblins watched him in concern.

Finally, he exploded out of his chair and began pacing. "There's nothing we can do for it. Yet. For the time being, let's get the castle ready so that when 'the lady' returns, everything runs smoothly."

The goblins gave a loud cheer and began bustling all over the place, some of them scrambling for cleaning materials, others shouting about getting a party together for her return. As it was basically guaranteed that these creatures would get half-way through preparations and finally give in to their own urge to celebrate the possible return of the lady. Even if it might be awhile before she set foot back in the castle.

One goblin scrambled up his leg, and back, sitting on his shoulder as he watched the flurry of moving goblins. It pet his wild hair, humming a song and swaying back and forth. He glanced towards it, giving him a queer look. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Goblins glad Kinga not like last time. Kinga scared us last time."

He arched a brow, inclining his head to the side. "Oh do tell."

The goblin turned those watery eyes towards him. "Last time, Kinga get sad. Last time...Kinga not sing, not kick us, just hide away and be sad, sad. Kinga more fun when he's singing and kicking."

"Am I?"

"Yup."

Jareth extracted the goblin with one hand and drop-kicked it out of the throne room, eliciting a cheer from the rest of his subjects. He gave a faint smirk, pacing back towards the throne and resting on it in a boneless manner.

They were right. Everything was fine. So why was there a strange sense of discomfort in the back of his mind, a little nagging sensation that said that while everything was fine now, the proverbial shit was soon going to hit the fan.