Jareth, in his owl shape, sat outside Sarah's window and watched the party.
Bitter, sad, disappointed, humiliated…lost.
What would he do now? His entire world had centred around this girl-child, this young woman, this bright fledgling who'd stolen his heart.
And she had stolen his heart. He loved her. He had.
Her wishing away the child had been a stroke of good luck, or so it had seemed. It was totally unexpected. It should have showed him how little faith she really put into her fantasies, that she never wanted them to be real. Not truly.
He had been planning to wait, to make himself known to her later on when she was ready. But when she wished the child away to him, he couldn't wait. It was the perfect opportunity to show her his world. To show her that he could give her all her dreams and imaginings. He would play the villain, so she could at last be a shining heroine.
If he'd stopped to think about it, he would have known it was a fool's plan, doomed to fail.
He breathed a sigh, and took off. He couldn't stand her happiness. He didn't want her to be unhappy…but if she had cried or sulked or moaned or regretted or pondered or pined…that would have eased his pain. But no, he was glad he hadn't hurt her. He was glad she was happy. At least, that's what Jareth told himself.
But in another way, a selfish way, it hurt to see that she was so sure that she didn't want him - and she wanted none of what he offered - that she could laugh and dance without a second thought.
He soared over the town on silent wings and alighted on a bridge. The same one Sarah had played not so many hours ago. It seemed like an eternity.
It was here he'd first seen her. She had been acting out another monologue, from Beauty and the Beast if he remembered correctly. He'd watched her act here so many times.
He had thought that she would be the Beauty to his Beast, that she would break the dark enchantment that was the monotony of his life in the Underground. But no. It was not to be. No happily ever after for this particular fairy tale, not for Jareth.
He pondered as he sat, ignoring a mouse that scuttled fearfully over the bridge. How had Sarah enchanted him so?
It was her imagination that captured him. Her innocence, her playfulness, her stubbornness. Her irritating stubbornness… yes that certainly added to her charm. She was a challenge, a game. Or she had been at first. He'd wanted to capture her, make her light his own, to be part of it, and share in the hope she radiated.
But it was his fate to return to his Labyrinth, to the Underground. It was not truly the frightening, cold, desolate place he had made it appear to Sarah. It was quite a nice place really. But to Jareth, it had never had more life than those thirteen madcap hours when Sarah's fear, desperation, anger and occasional pleasure had brought light to his dark kingdom.
He didn't want to return. It would seem a darker place now, darker than midnight, after being so recently exposed to the blinding light that was Sarah. A cloud passed over the moon as if to emphasise that thought.
He sighed. It wouldn't always be so dark, he knew. His eyes would adjust and he would get over her. He would always love her, in a way. But he saw now that she would never have chosen him and that she never would have survived life in the Underground if she had lost the race and he had made her his queen.
Sarah loved the world of make-believe, but she wanted it to stay that way: make believe. To her, fantasy was the elaborate, shatterproof cocoon she'd constructed after her mother had left. She'd immersed herself in her safe world of make believe, but she was still too close to her family, and the mortal world. He had thought the strings which tied her there would be easily snapped, that she'd be eager to leave it behind and live out her dreams. But she was more tightly bound than he realised, more than she realised.
Jareth took flight again, to seek solace in a place which wasn't so drenched in memories. He wasn't ready to return to the Underground yet, but he felt he could leave Sarah behind.
She'd left him.
So he turned and left her. He had his pride. She'd stolen his heart, yes, but he knew he'd get it back one day. He doubted he'd ever give it away again though. He was already tired of being blind.