Author's Note: Please note that this chapter is Rated NC-17 and is intended for mature readers.

The pace on the park grounds quickened within the different camps as news spread of the appearance of the circling troops.

The heads of camp met at the Belvedere Castle to convene with Sarah, transported through the help of enchanted doors found throughout the park, to which only her most trusted advisors had keys. Sarah didn't relish hiding in the shadows, but knew that it was important for her to stay out of sight until the time was right.

The castle had once been only a folly, a structure built to a beautiful gothic aesthetic, but fairly plain inside. In the re-invented New York it held all the luxury one might expect from a castle, even a miniature one.

The main hall had been transported into a throne room, lovingly filled with fine furniture, linens, and rich colors in preparation for the white queen. Sarah sat quietly at her throne, her thin arms draped over the velvet-covered armrests. She wore a long, beige gown of a luxurious, heavy fabric that hugged her torso and breasts, wrapped tightly about her arms and right shoulder, leaving only the left shoulder exposed. The most dramatic exposure was a sharp cut from the bottom hem that reached almost to the waistline, revealing one booted leg, light suede leather reaching past the knee and folding over.

The room was full to the brim, but even in the crowd, this is the first thing Jareth laid eyes upon as he entered from one of the side hallways. He hung back and cloaked himself from her view. He did not want to distract at a pivotal moment, wanted to watch her a few moments longer. He silently indicated for Toby to go ahead of him.

The boy also seemed to grasp the weight of the moment, quietly, slowly pushing through the crowd to approach his sister, without ever stepping fully to the forefront.

Leah was at the front of the group, and was the first to speak. "Sarah, I've received news of an integral key at the bottom of the palace."

Sarah raised a hand to quiet the bustling room. "Continue, Leah."

"Justin has a plan for invading through the subway tunnels and sewers which should work. An entrance has apparently been cleared for us to get through once we are close. Mergo and the other groundhogs can give us support in any areas needing digging." Mergo stood proudly at her side and saluted the queen.

"Sarah!" Hoggle ran into the hallway and up to the throne, almost out of breath.

"What is it, Hoggle?"

"The castle. It's changed. You gotta see fer yourself."

She nodded and produced a scrying crystal from a fold in her dress. It held an image of the growing palace, and the moat that surrounded it.

She reached out with her mind, for a brief moment, testing the vibrations in the air.

"Her power has increased." She looked around and saw a deepening of the already forlorn expressions. A soft murmur passed through the crowd. "Do not be concerned."

Sarah held the crystal aloft for Leah and Mergo to see. "Is this moat going to cause you any trouble?"

Mergo leaned in. "An inconvenience, but we will find a way through, your Majesty."

Granen stepped forth. "Majesty, the horses have been secured and disbursed to the troops."

"As have the boats," added Eberon.

"And the great hill is fortified," Sage noted.

"Good," Sarah answered, rising from her seat. "You are all my leaders, my eyes and my ears. I will spare you the rousing speeches, and speak plainly. We are outnumbered, our powers weaker by the second. Our plan is not foolproof, but it is the best plan we have. This world, in many ways, seems perfectly ready to play this charade to its demise, and though we have some sway, we cannot decide for the world.

"But this is both our limitation and our strength, for it means that it is not up to our enemy, anymore than it is up to us. So we must be sharp and be careful. The truth is on our side. If we work with the truth in our hearts, if we can show it faithfully, maybe it will speak to those who are lost and show them the way.

"Remember, my friends. We are not saving the world. We are helping the world to save itself."

Jareth sat in the shadows, a heavy quiet passing through him. She was so regal. Such queenly instincts he never would have imagined sitting within that frightened, arrogant sixteen year old girl of yore. After witnessing the extent of Sarah's darkness, part of him had feared that the Sarah he would see that evening would be a doe-eyed, gossamer princess, that she would be full of such goodness that he would be torn between his disgust with himself and his need for more savory company to offset the aching of his teeth.

The last Sarah had made him to feel that all hope was lost. This Sarah returned his optimism. Not with saccharine promises, but with rooted strength and maturity.

In that moment, something seemingly obvious, but far from his conscious mind, occurred to him.

He loved them both. And when they were rejoined, he'd be ready to meet each strength, anguish, lust, and tenderness with some of his own. The demons and the angels were all to his liking, and he would have them all and he would be satisfied.

It's good to feel clear once again. It's been much too long.

##

Everyone filtered out to prepare their ranks for as much rest as could be possible in such a state of perpetual readiness. No one knew when the dark queen would strike with her minions, but it was clear that everyone was exhausted from the day's activities and would need as much respite as possible in order to be ready for whatever came next.

Damion had returned to the right arm of his queen, waiting quietly for further orders. The bird man had undergone quite a transformation over his stay in this new world, and was amazingly calm and, most notably, unfettered by paperwork.

Leah left through another hallway and didn't see Toby, who had tried to get close to her, but was afraid to distract her during the meeting. He decided to wait until everyone left, hoping that he would later get to see Leah—the woman he had come to know as sister these past few years.

As the crowd faded, Toby was revealed, standing excited at the center of the throng, waiting with baited breath to say hello to Sarah. Jareth continued to hang back, allowing them their reunion.

Once Sarah noticed the boy she instantly jumped from her throne and ran to hug him. "Toby, you made it!"

She kneeled down to better embrace him and he unabashedly nestled his head into her shoulder. He felt a little awkward, but his excitement overshadowed his discomfort. He didn't really know her, and while she looked like his sister should look, her appearance was still different from Leah's, a fact that only really became obvious to him as he saw her in person. It had been equally true for Sarah's darker side, but then he had not had much time to think about the differences.

But this Sarah's smile won him over, quickly helping him to forget the pain that had been caused in his earlier encounter. And he felt something different when he hugged her that he had never felt before when hugging Leah, despite all her kindnesses and their strong bond of friendship. This Sarah felt like his sister.

She seemed to sense his thoughts. "I'm sorry I left you behind, Toby."

He smiled wanly. "It's okay, I know you had to be queen. You were probably trying to protect me. That's what grownups are always doing."

She laughed. "God, I remember how much I hated that at your age." She stood up. "Tell me, do you think I was right?"

He thought about it. "Yeah, I guess." She reached for his hand and led him toward the throne, where Damion stood with a smile.

"So this is young Master Toby?" he said. "I've heard you are becoming quite the magician."

"I'm not too bad," he said coyly. "I've learned twelve spells this week."

"You're gonna need them all, I bet," Sarah said. "Think you're ready to follow in your sister's footsteps?"

"Whaddya mean? I've been doin' crazy stuff all week! I learned to fly, found the witches, summoned my own guides, and then I saved Jareth! We flew on a dragon to get here." Scotty poked his head out of the knapsack on Toby's back and shouted, "Hey, ya had some help, lad!"

Sarah stopped in her tracks, ignoring the gnome. "Jareth is here?"

Jareth stepped from the shadows. "Indeed I am."

She turned. Their eyes met, her cool blue irises glowing.

"There he is! I wondered where he was..." Toby bounced a little, excited that he was the reason the two were now reunited.

Jareth walked toward them with even steps, stopping a few feet away. "Hello, Sarah."

She became very still. The moment hung, quiet.

She remembered the last time she had seen him in person. It was Underground, before the split, during the war caused by the enchanted crows that Kaleb had disbursed throughout the kingdoms. She had shouted at Jareth, then had promptly fainted from some wine that Kaleb had spiked. Days later she was split into her two halves, beginning the new adventure that had brought her to New York to fight herself.

"Jareth."

She smiled, then turned to Toby and Damion, who seemed taken in by the heavy, terse interaction of the two sorcerers. "Toby, you must be tired, perhaps Damion can—"

Toby trundled over to Damion, cutting her words short. "Yeah, yeah, you guys wanna kiss and stuff, I get the message." Jareth chuckled and Sarah laughed and nodded to Damion.

Damion smirked and nodded in return. "I will show him to his room, Majesty."

As they walked away, Toby began to barrage the bird man with questions about the battle, and Sarah could still hear his voice echo even as they had gone far down the north passage.

She watched him a few moments, arms crossed, her eyes distant. "I never thought I might be so comforted to hear a ten year old yammering." She turned to face Jareth again. Her complexion seemed brighter even than it had been merely moments before.

"He's a special child," Jareth replied, stepping closer. "Then again, I always knew he was... Even when my intentions were not so noble." He gave her a wry smile.

She took in the sight of him, his Aboveground take on a princely fashion.

"Something is different about you since our last encounter." Then she noticed the talisman hanging from his neck and raised a hand to touch it.

"Just where you said it would be, in my flower garden," he said softly. "You've helped to return me to myself. I am forever in your debt."

The dream visitation worked, she thought in satisfaction.

She breathed in the smell of him, an aroma of a variety of musky floral scents that she had never been able to place. It was a smell that had haunted her many years.

She met his gaze. "I've missed you."

His answer was a kiss.

She pulled back. "This... you know this isn't me."

He smiled. "It is. Every bit of it."

"You've seen the worst parts of me, how could you want me anymore?"

He brushed his fingers through her hair. "I've lived longer than you can imagine. I have no fairytale notions of good and evil to cloud my sight. I love every side of you, and I will never stop doing so."

"Good answer." She leaned into him and picked up the kiss where it left off.

Mid-kiss, Sarah felt herself beginning to fade. She stopped and pulled away, losing focus on Jareth's face as a white void began to swallow her sight.

"Sarah." His face fell as he watched her begin to dissipate. "What's happening?"

She breathed deeply, almost breathing in solidity, but not enough. "It... it happens when I am too happy. She disappears into her void, and I into mine, if we travel too far along our separate paths."

He reached out a hand to her, and she could just barely feel his skin touch hers, a warm ripple of energy passing from him to her. A jolt of reality that helped her to regain solidity.

Long ago he had offered himself, his world of fantasy, to her in an attempt to steal her away from her reality, and now it was he who offered himself to return it. The irony was not lost on either of them. They smiled knowingly at each other.

"Take a walk with me and tell me of your recent adventures," Sarah said, leading him down the hall and up a staircase that opened up onto the second tier balcony.

A view overlooking the park was visible from three sides. To the North, Turtle Pond reflected the two moons crisply, cattails and goldenrod swaying in the breeze. To the South, the skyline of New York loomed, lights from the altered skyscrapers dancing as never before. Above all the buildings towered the gnarled oak fortress, leafless limbs twisting high into the perpetual night sky.

As far as the eye could see, the park was dotted with the flames of campfires, the floor covered with mischief-causing creatures and a few sleeping soldiers. The humans were the most collected of species overall, most either in quiet repose or walking in small groups, enjoying the landscape and keeping guard at once.

Sarah and Jareth leaned on the battlements while a number of posted soldiers in full armor kept watch, respectfully turning their heads away to give them a modicum of privacy.

Jareth told Sarah about the week in the palace, about the gradual loss of sanity that almost caused him to give up hope. He told her about Kaleb's presence and eventual demise, Jeremiah's cryptic visits.

"Where is Jeremiah, now?" she finally interrupted to ask.

"It troubles me greatly that I cannot answer that question. If Marlena and the others have not seen him, then he is likely finding ways to cause us trouble on other fronts." He watched her silently as a sharp wind picked up and blew her hair and dress about. A cool drop of water landed on his cheek. He reached up to wipe it up and looked into the sky.

Before he could announce the rain, it began to fall fast upon them. Sarah took his hand and led them to the doorway of the top floor at a brisk pace. She led him up stairs and through doorways to a final staircase spiraling up to a door that opened out onto the tower room. There were tall rectangular windows on three sides, and a larger arch that overlooked the east side of the city.

Sarah wasn't sure how the room had looked before the change, but it was currently a resplendent gothic masterpiece, the central focus of which was an elaborate, large four post bed decked out in chiffon and velvet. Sarah promptly ran to the fireplace that burned at the northwest wall, drying her wet hands before the flames.

Jareth shook out his wet hair and promptly sat upon the bed. He patted the soft duvet, and winked at her slyly. "Your subconscious has chosen an interesting centerpiece."

Sarah didn't acknowledge him, though she had heard his statement. She could feel something building outside, knew deep in her bones that they would all soon be facing a battle. The rain was no coincidence.

Jareth noted her pensiveness and approached her side. "Calm before the storm."

"The world has fallen to pieces and I have no clue how this is all going to come out in the end." She crossed her arms, wet bangs dripping water on her brow. "Is it terrible that all I can think about is how badly I want my own life to be some semblance of normal again?"

He stepped behind her and rubbed warmth into her shoulders. "Of course not. Except for that pesky word, 'Normal.'"

He sat in an arm chair by the fire and looked into its embers. "Do you remember a day, when you were probably twenty or so... You were leaving the diner where you worked, you were troubled... And on your walk to the subway you were stopped by a homeless man, who begged some change of you."

She positioned herself in the chair across from him, her face rapt with curiosity.

"At first, you ignored him, lost in your own thoughts. But he called after you, said that he had lost his will to live, his will to dream. And you turned around. You pulled a sandwich you had made for your own dinner from your pack, the last of the money in your wallet, handed it to him without hesitation. But most notably, you looked him in the eye and said... what was it you said? Oh yes.

"'Anyone can take your life, but no one can take your dreams. And no one can give them to you, either. Maybe you've had magic in your life once. I keep hope that magic lost can once again be found.'" He looked at her intently. "Sarah, you have never been normal, nor do I think you wish it. There's a wish in you to show the world how to dream, and it is through the grace and goodness in you that you shall succeed."

She became soft and pensive, absorbing his words quietly at first, then breaking into a laugh. "That's all very touching, you know… But you were spying on me!"

"More than I think you'd be comfortable knowing." He exuded a boyish charm that was irresistible.

Not long ago she would have shivered at the thought of the Goblin King spying on her, but even if she wouldn't have admitted it to herself, she also sort of relished the notion. "Maybe I'm crazy, but it sounds oddly romantic. I hope, Your Highness, that I was always clothed during these visits."

"A man must have some secrets." His brow slanted mischievously.

Sarah became quickly somber. "Jareth, things are going to start soon. It's dire, and I don't know how things will go. I'm afraid of what will happen... more than I'd admit to anyone else. I'm waiting on the edge of a knife for things to start." She looked up at the clock on the mantle. It was ten minutes until thirteen o'clock.

He stood up and approached a decanter of wine that sat on a dresser nearby. "Well, then let us enjoy a glass of wine and share each other's company in conversation to wile away the nervous hours."

Sarah approached him and put out a hand to stop him before he could pour the rich, burgundy liquid into a glass. "I had something else in mind."

The conversation had afforded a sort of safety net for him, distracting him from his deeper desires. Now that he saw those desires mirrored in her, a wash of excited nervousness passed over him. But he did not let it get far. "As we saw earlier, you are in no place for—"

She took his hand, reaching out energetically for that spell he had cast upon her earlier in the evening, the one that had tethered her to the world again. The warmth spread from his hand once more, bidden by her, and not blocked by him. "I need you to be here for me… And I trust that you can."

He brushed his other hand against her cheek and considered her proposition. It didn't take him long to make his decision. Head tilted slightly to the side, he leaned in, gently touching his lips to her own.

The expert delicacy of his tongue was what she noticed first, a vaguely constructed recognition that sank deeper into her consciousness as she lost herself to their wiles.

Every sensation was heightened, every motion of the mouth a new sense in a rainbow of electric impulses. He sucked on first one lip, and then the other, probing the valleys at the corners of her mouth, and the cliffs at the very edges, the place where creamy skin thrust itself into a promontory of pink, soft flesh.

One arm wrapped around her waist, unshyly kneading the curve just above her hip, crawling to her back, to her buttocks, decisive in its exploration of her body. The other hand gently touched, then pressed, then fluttered across her neck.

He had been like a patient man in a cage, polite in his captivity, until the day the key was thrust between the bars. The day of escape had played upon his mind too many times to fumble with the keys, and there was no hesitation in going for the lock.

His expectation for this long-awaited encounter had been for a slow and steady feast, moving through courses carefully, starting with appetizers on a gradual path to dessert. His mistake in that daydream was in assuming he would in this encounter hold the same level of self-control he had held in the past. As badly as he wanted to consume Sarah now, it was a miracle of his own concentration that he was able to afford an inkling of the subtle affections he had managed so far.

So long he had wanted her that he had already devised a million little ways to distract her from herself—ways of fae, ways forgotten to men of her own world. Time had gifted him with much experience as a lover, and even if he had done without a woman's affections for many years, he had not forgotten the art of lovemaking.

He commanded the air to lift her hair, tendril by tendril, snake through and arrest the dampness from her locks. It did as bid, relishing as he did the sensuality of her tresses.

He commanded her suede boots to come unzipped, their soft walls falling gently near her ankles.

He commanded gravity to lift their bodies up, leaving the boots behind as her delicate feet were lifted from them. The kiss uninterrupted, he set them back down.

He pulled away and looked firmly into her eyes. Just as he thanked the return of his powers for their private encounter, he thanked the gods for finally bringing before him a woman who could make him feel so utterly powerless under her gaze.

She wrapped her fingers about the collar of his jacket and pushed it over his shoulders. His arms followed her efforts, falling limp to his side as the fabric slipped down easily, falling to the floor.

Her hands traced the medallion about his neck, browsing the dell between his pectoral muscles, wandering to the left, just under the translucent black fabric of his shirt. His nipples were small and were colored a light shade of brown. She traced the alert territory with her fingertip before moving to the sash about his waist. He shrugged off the shirt, where it fell to the floor by his jacket, leaving his chest entirely bare up to the waist of his black pants.

He leaned into her hair and took in the smell of her. Heat radiated from the quickening vein in her neck, glowing aromas of dahlia and dogwood. He touched his nose to her hair and relished the fragrance of iris blossoms that hung about her brown tresses. He touched his lips to her neck, moving up to the lobe of her ear, plying the flesh with his wet lips and tongue, tracing the edges carefully as if to commit them to an internal map that outlined each coastline and shore of her body.

His mouth hesitated above the ear. "Are you sure?" he whispered.

The soft rasp of her breathing raised intensity, expectantly. "I'm sure of nothing else."

Jareth freed her left shoulder from the heavy fabric and around her arms, leaving her breasts exposed. First fondling the round underside, then the pink, attentive areolas. His other hand reached just under the folded fabric of her dress to unclasp the belt that hung low at her hips. Once free, the weight of the cloth pulled the dress to the ground, leaving her almost completely vulnerable to his attentions, save the lace undergarment that covered her femininity.

She looked up at him, so fragile and yet so powerful, eyes heavy with passion. He sank into her eyes. The inner door to her most guarded secrets opened before him. He felt such a comforting familiarity pass over him that he almost became lost within it.

Just as he felt he might succumb to the tenderness of seeing his lover so exposed in all her soft beauty, she made a move that removed all notions that he was the one in possession of the reigns of surprise.

Eyelids heavy with sensuality and magic, she laid her focus upon the tender firmness just below his belt, sweeping energy just above and past the engorged member below. No hands, only the influence of electrons performed this dance as she held his eyes in her stare. Through magic she felt the muscular vibrations as his manhood responded to her teasing supplications. Under the domination of a mysterious power, his belt slid from its buckle and his remaining garment unfettered itself from him.

She relished the sound of his quickening breath as he stepped from the clothing and lifted her from the ground effortlessly. As he carried her to the bed, his naked form pressing against her warming flesh, he looked into her, into that room of haunted desire that she had kept so long locked away, and saw her need to be lovingly conquered.

It was only a few feet to the bed, but in that time he sent a million electric impulses to touch each hair on her flesh. A surprised moan escaped her lips, and as she opened her eyes to face him once more, she found him staring at her so intently she thought he might intend to arrest every sight and sound from her in a further possession of her being.

He laid her upon the bed gently, leaving kisses upon her neck, upon their delicate bones and muscles, into the shallow space above her ribcage, and then down to her breasts, where he captured each in gentle nips and tongue strokes, pulling and caressing the flesh until he could feel parts of her twitch with added excitement. Her hands became increasingly dissatisfied with stillness and found purchase in his long blonde hair as he continued to follow his own charted path down her stomach, where he stopped to run a gentle finger down the lace trim of her panties, soon replacing it with the warm wetness of his tongue. He touched the threads along the rim in a slow journey from left to right, enchanting the woven pattern so that it delicately unwove itself and dissolved into the air. A small tremble passed through him as he looked upon the glistening, long curls between her legs, a hint of her moisture peeking from the tight fold between her thighs and sparkling under the influence of her body's subtle vibrations and the firelight from across the room.

He touched the hair only at the tops of those red-brown curls, brushing past the wetness, breathing in the heady scents of his woman.

He descended upon her, using his hands to part her legs enough to avail himself of a view of the soft folds of her delicate flower. Fingers and energy ran over and through the skin, over the lips and creases around her clitoris. He softened his focus and through his mind sank into her, felt her sensations with her. As each sigh and quiet moan floated from her mouth and built on the last, his own breath quickened with his own arousal at the fullness of her female sensitivities. Many a time before he had felt jealousy over the breadth of woman's senses, but today he relished in that inner glimpse, wishing only that his love could have a capacity for pleasure beyond the bounds of any earthly tether. He would do all he could to get as close to this unattainable heaven as his long-accumulated wiles would allow.

He wanted nothing more than to take her, but he tapped some remaining reservoir of will and instead thrust his fingers into her, an expedition that started carefully, then resolved into a deeper, faster exploration of those deliciously wet inner chasms.

As he fondled, he brought his mouth upon her, working with hands and tongue to roust a symphony of noise from the depths of her throat. She convulsed, tensing and releasing under his influence. Each time she came close to resolution, he pulled back from the foray... Each time she seemed on the verge of her former ephemeral dissolution into the white halls of joy, he brought her back with a pulse of rooting energy. The pleasure snaked through her body, chemical impulses firing sweet wave upon wave through every muscle, only to recede in the agonizing pains of a bliss unfulfilled. When she thought she could endure no more pleasure, she looked down upon him desperately, and he stopped only a moment to meet her gaze. His eyes were hungry, feral, his brow casually slanted in a delightfully villainous grin as he expertly consumed her. This was the power she had glimpsed upon as a teenager, the fantasy that had fed such a deep lust within her for so long.

A subtle grin crept along one side of his face, baring teeth in a catlike smile as he began sending warm pulses of energy into her. He crawled forward, his eyes ravaging the sight of her as she melted into a transcendental gratification—even as she could only for brief moments meet his gaze before her eyes rolled back again, further lost in the inner depths of her impossibly rising passions. In those seconds she could bare to look at him, she could read his innermost thoughts. While he climbed back toward her face, he caressed her body with his hands, continuing the work his tongue had only moments ago performed between her thighs with a sorcery that came as easy to him as breathing. His aura, his expression, his body language spoke to her of his satisfaction with himself and his unequaled command over her body. He peeled her away layer by layer so carefully that she could have no illusions as to who was the master of this moment.

Massaging her breasts, her buttocks, her thighs, he rasped into her ear, "Where are you, my little Sarah?" With one leg he pushed her legs wider apart, his fully erect penis tickling the skin of her inner thigh just before he allowed himself the long-awaited luxury of thrusting into her. The energy that he had sent into her inner halls now also vibrated and trembled against his own member, but he maintained enough focus to hold in that small gasp in his own throat that was dying for release.

As he rose the pitch and rhythm of his attack, she became so immersed in the power of his thrust, the way he filled her, with rippling flesh and unreal electricity, that she had lost track of the desperate cries of agonizing joy that wracked her body.

"Where have you gone?" he asked, his breath hot and fast, but his smile as wry as ever. "Tell me tales of your journeys." It was then, and only then, that he released his hold on her floodgates, picking up speed in his barrage to bring her closer. As her intense delirium built, it pulled him in, as violent waves retreating so suddenly as to rip a man from shore. His own moans began to mix and mingle with her own.

"Sing to me, my love. Sing to me of the dreams that only I can give you."

And so every cell in her body sang and vibrated in a symphony that was at once the life and death of her. She did as he bid, but of no volition of her own. Her voice rang out as her back arched at the most completely and satisfyingly destructive physical sensation her body had ever known.

She trembled as he continued to sit inside of her, as he kissed every centimeter of her face, both tender and hungry in his affection. She laughed as tears fell from her eyes, and he smiled down upon her.

"No rest for you, my dear. I have waited many years for this moment, and I have a long way to go before I have eaten my fill."

Before she could protest, he moved again within her, bending her to his will and taking her from every angle he could imagine, without even the bounds of gravity to prevent him from fulfilling either of their most wicked fantasies.

For hours she wondered at his endurance and mastery, his ability to contain his pleasure in spite of her best distractions. When she thought she would be able to take no more, he quickened one last time, pressing so deeply into her that she thought he might have penetrated her very soul. The pain was delicious, and his trembling breath the most sensual sound to have graced her ears. When he finally achieved his release, his satisfaction delivered silently and forcefully, his sharp face and slender neck first arched back in consummate relief, his body sending such strong signals of joy that even she could feel them.

As he finally collapsed onto her, filling her mouth with his tongue one more time, she said, "I'm not sure if it is you or I who is defeated."

He leaned over her, his blonde locks hanging disheveled over her face, his expression one of complete surrender. "I love you with every pitiful cell in my body, Sarah Williams. I don't know why, and I don't care to. If the world ends tomorrow, then how sweet it will be to think I have known the taste of you before all has been said and done."

She caressed his chest. "I love you too." A wry smile crossed her lips. "I've done all you've said, at least... tonight I have," she smirked. "Now all that's left is to fear you. And you will be my slave?"

He smirked at her evilly. "Sarah wants a slave in the bedroom. I can't say I am surprised."

Spent, he laid down next to her, where she curled up against him, almost sad for the half of her that would never remember this special encounter.

All seemed well, now that he was free of his shadow, free to live a long life... Free even to live forever, if all went well. He held her close, overjoyed except for a brief moment, a moment he had never so intensely experienced with any human woman, in which he remembered how frail she was, how brief the taste of one woman's love in the midst of his long lifespan. Centuries spread out behind him, and even though memories dissolved with time, he was absolutely sure there was no equal to this love, and that one day he would be doomed to experience the wilting of this special flower.

So much more special than any other.

He had not dreamed he would have this day, and now that it was his, he had to muster all of his focus to return to happier thoughts. She snuggled softly against him, and he squeezed her tightly, comforted by the calm movement of her torso as she breathed.

"Jareth?"

"Yes, Love."

"Promise me that we will live in this moment forever."

How sad he was that he could not grant her wish.

She finally fell asleep, but he stayed awake, pondering the events of the last few days, harping especially on the last hours. He watched her sleep, keeping guard for moments where dreams might cause her to slip her hold on reality. As she'd flutter from existence for those minutes, only to be called back by him, he wondered what she was dreaming. She needed even more rest, but he had been selfish in his use of her, and perhaps that loss of focus would distract her from the battle at hand, whether through happiness or exhaustion. But his reserves were not entirely drained, and he would hold a space free for them a bit longer so that she could get as much rest as possible.

He traveled the landscape of her dreams, and whenever she seemed lost, he sang:

The further on I go
Oh, the less I know

It's only us breathing
Only us sleeping
Only us dreaming

Her form would reappear and call back from the horizon:

I hear you calling me
Yes, I hear you calling me
Home from the great escape
Yes, I can read you loud and clear.

Opening his eyes, he softly sang aloud:

The further on I go
Oh, the less I know
Friend or foe, there's only us

She finally awoke with a fitful yawn, seemingly unaware of his involvement in her dreams, of his quiet songs to her.

She rose to kiss him. "It's a miracle no one has troubled us all evening. I was sure things were going to start hours ago." She looked up at the clock on the wall.
It read ten minutes to thirteen o'clock, exactly as it had been when she looked before they began their lovemaking.

She started up from the bed with a rush of panic. "How is that possible? Has it been thirteen hours already?"

He noticed the focus of her attention, then brushed a hand through her hair. "All is well. It's my doing."

She faced him, a questioning look in her eyes.

"I did what I had the power to do, to help you... to give us this time."

She pulled aside the sheets and walked to the window that overlooked the lake. Everyone was frozen in mid-step, the rain in mid-fall. Overhead the black figure of a dragon hung in the sky.

Jareth had re-ordered time.

He stepped behind her to share the view, wrapping his arms around her, cherishing again the smell of iris blossoms in her hair as it mingled with her sweat.

"How did you do it? I didn't realize you had been returned as much power as this."

"Well, Time is one of my specialties."

She didn't need to see the expression on his face to know what he meant by the last statement.

Arms still wrapped around her, he produced a scrying crystal in his right hand, peering over her shoulder so that they might look into it together. It showed an image of the troops circling the park as they all stepped forward into the battlefield in formation, frozen at the cusp of the onslaught.

"I won't be able to maintain our privacy much longer." As he said it, he could feel the strain wearing on him.

She hugged him warmly. "Thank you."

She walked to the closet and removed a white suit and began to dress. "Let us be ready when the spell breaks."

##

When time stopped, it was hard for Sarah not to notice. All her servants frozen mid-task, her army postponed on their missions, her closest attendants gathered about her, mouths agape mid-update. It was no small magic, yet no match for her own growing powers. She decided to let it run its course, hoping that she might find the source before it ended. In her estimation it could be only one of three individuals, and she eagerly wished to capture all three.

Just as she began to surmise how she would find the source, something stirred in her. A fiery lust grew in her body, an arousal so thorough that it made her tremble. And then the sensation was gone.

She instantly knew. Whatever protection her other half had held was down, if just for a moment.

He had spurned her own affections, yet chosen to make wanton use of her other half. Perhaps he had changed less than even she thought... wishing to torment her however he might. To sully her goodness through sex and further degrade her darkness by the refusal thereof.

An odd jealousy it was, to be jealous of oneself. Perhaps because now she was no longer that person, she was someone else, it was no different than being denounced for another woman.

The sensations still lingered in her body, the brief moment of almost-climax that felt like the burning of a hundred fireworks, on flight to the sky, only to fizzle before the dramatic finish.

She wanted to find them, to stop their affair, to show Jareth true pain, to kill... Well, could she kill her other half? She supposed she could not, their bonds still so tight. And she was unsure that she wanted to, and even less sure of the source of this faltering purpose.

But she did not leave. She had crawled into the amethyst some hours ago, its crystal forms bending and shaping around her like a womb. The idea of leaving brought her much more pain than stepping outside of it did. And it told her to stay, to ignore her own selfish whims and bend to the purpose.

You can only create the battle, you cannot decide the outcome.

Did she think it, or did the amethyst tell her these words?

So she stayed. And thought upon her thwarted bliss, upon this world she had created, created for her, a world that refused to please her. In the meantime, she'd devise a way to have her vengeance, after the battle was won.