The next morning Sarah put on her Nelly Furtado CD, really LOUD!  Hoggle, Sir Didymus and Ludo were not around so Sarah sung along by herself, getting her sour mood out of her system with lots of noise.

“WHY NOT SOME TIME TO DISCOVER

WHAT’S BEHIND YOUR EYES AND

I’VE GOT SO MANY QUESTIONS

THAT I WANT TO ASK YOU

I AM SO TIRED OF MIRRORS

POUR ME A GLASS OF YOUR WINE!”  Sarah sang with feeling.

Jareth, still in a morose mood from the previous evening could hear her quite well (using his magic) from the forest areas of his realm where he was hiding to mope until he could present a blasé front once again.  He conjured a crystal.  She still looked wrathful.  He scowled.

“AND THERE’S AN ACHING INSIDE MY HEAD

IT’S TELLING ME I’M BETTER OFF ALONE…”

Jareth’s face tightened.  She sang that with a little too much conviction for his comfort.

“AND I SAY FOLLOW ME FOLLOW ME FOLLOW ME DOWN DOWN DOWN DOWN

‘TIL YOU SEE ALL MY DREAMS…”

“But Sarah, you have no dreams,” Jareth murmured irritably gazing into the crystal.

“NOT EVERYTHING IN THIS MAGICAL WORLD IS QUITE WHAT IT SEEMS…”

Sarah stopped dancing around suddenly as if the words suddenly depressed her.  She sighed.  “Nothing is real here,” she murmured, dispirited.  Suddenly she kicked a chair viciously and went and collapsed on her bed.

Jareth spent the rest of the day in a huff, flying low over his lands or wandering moodily through his forests.  How was he supposed to know what to do next?  He hadn’t spent any real time with another human for 80,000 years!  I had been longer really, as he had been a somewhat solitary man on earth too.

That evening Sarah changed into a black velvet dress as it suited her mood.  She had been wearing her jeans all day in a rebellious fit simply because she knew Jareth hated them.  She felt quite calm, having recovered her temper but she wasn’t in a communicative mood and really only wanted something to eat.  She felt rather flat, really.

The dining room was empty when she arrived so she sat to wait for him, thinking it the polite thing to do.  A couple of hours later, she realized he was not coming to dinner that evening so with a shrug she helped herself to the food that had been waiting for them.  She smiled as she realized she was rather enjoying not having to worry about trying to figure out his cryptic remarks and behavior.  But she felt rather miserable about the fact that he was so annoyed with her.

“After 80,000 years, you’d think he’d have more maturity,” she commented aloud, sipping from her goblet after she’d finished eating.  She heard an elegant snort behind her.  Well, we’ve arrived, she thought with cynical amusement.  Jareth gave her his best icy cold, intimidating glare as he came to the table.  She stared back with the unblinking gaze of a cat.  Suddenly she frowned.  “You look tired,” she commented.

“I’ve been busy,” Jareth said shortly.

“Yes, busy sulking,” she replied smartly.  “I think maybe we should air our grievances and try and forgive each other,” she suggested with an admirable air of common sense.

He stared at her uncomprehendingly.  He was the Goblin King!  He didn’t forgive.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d forgiven anyone.  He’d never considered it.  Would it make a difference, he wondered?  He didn’t say anything for a full minute.  He settled back into his high-backed chair.  “Fine.  You go first,” he said, his voice sounding reticent.

“Okay.  I forgive you for frightening me deliberately, for being intentionally confusing, for using seduction to try and distract me from doing the right thing and completing my quest, for getting yourself in a situation that you need my assistance to get out of, and for always being so cold and indifferent and distant and secretive and manipulative,” she said directly.  Jareth felt rather affronted.  He considered some of those things his best qualities.  “Don’t pout!” Sarah commanded.  “Now it’s your turn.”  He sniffed petulantly.

“I forgive you,” he drawled, “for not believing magic was real and wishing your brother away in the first place and then blaming me for it, for behaving like an immature brat at times, for destroying my kingdom and myself so I had to waste a century re-building it, for not knowing what you want and for believing I’m nothing but an irredeemably evil villain.”

They faced each other off for a few minutes.  “See?  That wasn’t hard, was it?  Pax?” she questioned, reaching a hand out across the massive table.  It was the first time since they’d danced together in the peach hallucination that she’d volunteered to touch him.  He reached out a slender, handsome, gloved hand and agreed, “Pax.”  She took her hand away and looked at him with kind eyes still tinged with amusement but it was an improvement on open dislike.

“One more thing,” he said suddenly.  “I apologise for that remark about an heir last night.  Sometimes I forget you’re barely more than a child yourself,”

“I am not a child!” she said indignantly, amidst amazement that he was apologizing for anything at all.  It was a big step forward, she supposed.  She looked at his averted face and thought again how amazingly beautiful he was.  “And I’m sorry for being an immature brat who doesn’t know what she wants,” she replied, her mouth twitching with mirth at his earlier complaints.

He glanced at her, expecting anger but was surprised to see her laughing.  He wasn’t sure how to behave around her now that the old enmity was take care of. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, when she saw his frown.

He looked at her warily from his mis-matched eyes.  “I’m not used to being around people anymore.  Without our old roles as heroine and villain I have no idea how to behave,” he explained simply.  She blinked in surprise.

“Be yourself,” she replied without thinking.

Himself, he thought?  Most of the things he was she didn’t like.  Almost as if she’s read his mind she said,  “Shall I tell you the things I like about you?”

He looked at her quizzically.  Was there anything she liked? 

She smiled.  “I like your quicksilver brain.  I like your self-confidence, even your arrogance.  I like your creativity and imagination – after all, you created this place and it’s wonderful.  I like your style and your tastes.  I like your unwillingness to compromise – even to please others or to save your own skin.  I like your determination and I think you have a lot of class.  I also like the way you look,” she added with just enough flirtatiousness to be flattering without being encouraging.

“The way I look,” he repeated incredulously, his fair brows raised at this revelation.

“Yes, I think you’re quite beautiful,” she said, deadpan.

Jareth was tempted to feel smug, after all he was very vain but he was too surprised at her cool honesty for his vanity to take over.  Besides, she stated it like a fact not as a lover would.  “Ummm… thanks I think,” he frowned at the table. 

Sarah giggled.  It was interesting to see him discomforted and without his usual aplomb.  Then she yawned.  “So much for deep and meaningful discussions.  I’m going to bed,” Sarah said sleepily.  “Goodnight.”

Jareth watched her wander off and felt a strange sensation.  He racked his brains for a name for it and finally he picked it – hope.  It had been so long since he’d felt it that he’d forgotten it almost entirely.  It changed everything.  Even the dark room suddenly seemed lighter.  His face twitched and he suddenly realized he was trying to smile.  Not his usual cynical smirk but a genuine smile.  Even his face was unused to certain emotions now!  Would it work out?  Could it work out, he asked himself?  Maybe…