"Stop it... stop it!" Propar yelled. Dark energy flared out from him in waves, striking out seemingly at random as the man lost control even further. Some of the guards were forced to shield themselves with Fae magic; others deflected or absorbed the wild energy with enchanted shields and weapons.

"How dare you lecture me on my children... Who knows what is best for them besides I, their father? I've raised them with my own two hands ever since their mother died... I have lived only for them. And now you tell me that I am ruining their futures?"

Then, he felt an elbow in the pit of his stomach.

"Ungh!" Lord Propar grunted in surprise, loosening his hold on Dawn. He looked at her as she fell, no longer held upright by his arm, horror making his features turn a waxy shade of ivory as he gazed upon her unconscious face.

He looked around the room, suddenly seeming to come to his senses, looking like a frightened child. Jareth, however, walked over to Dawn with a calmly stern face, gathering her prone form in his arms.

"Are you satisfied, Lord Propar?" He asked. "The harm you could have wrought upon my Dawn could have been far worse, yes... but who knows what your treatment of her thus has done?" His voice shook with carefully restrained rage.

"My children... I... just wanted Philoma especially to be secure and safe..." Propar seemed to not have even heard Jareth, as his eyes darted around the room, finally stopping at his hands raised up before him.

"Now I will have ruined them. No one will care for them as I have. A father's love is paramount! At least I can spare them the shame of me continuing to exist while their names are so tarnished..."

His features were set now, oddly serene given the situation.

"Tell my girls I love them."

He raised his hands above his head, and dark magic began to seep from them directly towards his body.