Title: Thrall
Author: Anisky
Summary: Love is not always gentle and kind, and he will never rest until he owns her body, mind, and soul. J/S, of a sort. Evil Jareth
Rating: R
Disclaimer: None of it's mine!
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Chapter 1
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She escaped.
She had escaped.
He had never been so furious.
He had planned everything so perfectly! For years he had watched her from his form as an owl, looking after her, memorizing her, so that he would know what to say and do to lure her into the perfect trap.
He had given her the Labyrinth book, knowing that she would be enchanted by the story. He had tempted her mother away, seduced her with the glamour and mystique of Hollywood, when Sarah had been only a child. He had introduced Karen to her father, knowing that Sarah would hate her stepmother, and he needed to give only the slightest nudge to make sure they had a child.
From then on he'd known it was only a matter of time. He began watching her so much that even his goblins took notice. They formed a pool, betting when she would finally wish away Toby, and took to watching her as well, those who would stand to win urging her to make the wish and those who would lose hoping she would not.
He had been unsure whether or not she would take the crystal; on the one hand, she was endearingly selfish, but on the other it would be hard to resist the chance to run the Labyrinth. He had made sure, though his book and his whispers into her dreams at night, that she dreamt of him; the crystal would have trapped her in her dreams, forever, with him.
He had been secretly delighted when she chose to run his Labyrinth. The crystal would have been easy, but he relished the hunt, knew that the chase would make finally possessing her that much sweeter. Never for a moment did he consider that she might win.
They never won. Why should she be any different? He usually ignored the runners, and still none had beaten his Labyrinth. Whereas she had his personal attention, he had watched and even interfered in order to ensure that she would not win. It was unthinkable.
It had happened.
At the end, he had been reduced to nearly begging her, something that galled him and left a bitter taste in his mouth. And still, after he implored her, after he showed her what he was offering, she had still refused.
The Goblin King had never before been hurt by someone—he had never let anyone close enough for it to be possible—and he so he had no frame of reference, no way to properly channel what he felt. Instead it all manifested itself as anger, as frustration, and as an already potent obsession increased tenfold.
Before, he had wanted her. Now he loved her and hated her. He would never give up; she had simply proved to be a more elusive prey, that was all.
He had been weakened when she spoke the words—those hateful words, the most abhorrent he could imagine coming from those lips. His castle had crumbled, his powers drained from him, and he was forced to slowly rebuild before he could continue his pursuit.
For a very long time, all he could do was watch her.
He could do little beyond that, and it infuriated him. He had enough strength to send her the occasional suggestion of a dream, to make sure that she did not forget him as she slept, but beyond that he was, infuriatingly, impotent. He could not, in this state, do anything in the mortal world if he were not called upon; as she said, he had no power over her.
Whenever he thought of that fact, his eyes would narrow, his fists and jaw would clench, and he would renew his determination to change that, change it completely, to take not only power but complete power over her.
After a year and a day after her trip through the Labyrinth, a year and a day of watching her every move and letting his desire and obsession rankle and intensify from the pure unfulfilled need, he was finally returned to his full power.
He could finally go after her.
First, he vowed to himself, he would punish her for what she did to him; then, when she had properly atoned, he would tame her, and have her always. And then, finally, he would be able to rest, knowing she was safely under his power.
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Though he wanted to make his Sarah pay, and loathed speaking softly and gently to her before she was properly punished, Jareth knew that the beginning of this hunt would require a gentle touch. He mustn't frighten her; he must make her forget that he was something of which she should be frightened.
After his year and a day were over, Jareth could finally stop watching.
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Sarah smiled. "Good night, Toby," she murmured, as she kissed his forehead. She pulled the blanket up over him before turning and heading to the door. She turned and looked at him fondly once more before she turned off the lights and left.
She headed downstairs, with somewhat aimless intentions of getting a late snack or watching TV. She became slightly annoyed when she discovered that she couldn't find the remote control. Muttering under her breath, she searched the living room, crouching down to check under the coffee table.
Suddenly, reality shifted. There was no better way to describe it. One moment, everything felt the way it normally did; the next, there was a disturbance, a twisting in Sarah's gut that warned her of danger and beauty. She straightened and turned around, slowly, somehow knowing the scene that would await her.
He was lounging on the couch, calm as you please, as though he actually belonged there and weren't some mythical king from a fantasyland she hadn't encountered in ages.
"Looking for this?" he asked lightly, holding out the remote.
She ventured towards him to snatch the remote from his outstretched hand, immediately backing away to a safe distance. Jareth laughed richly at her skittishness.
"What are you doing here?" she asked stupidly. Inside she was screaming. I banished you! Go away! You can't be here!
"I can't just stop by to see an old friend?"
"We aren't friends," she told him, though it came out sounding more like a question than the firm rebuttal she'd intended. Truthfully, a part of her was tickled pink at the idea that she was friends with the King of the Goblins. Just watch the popular girls at school try to match that!
She squelched the thought resolutely.
"You wound me, Sarah." He didn't look wounded. He looked a lot more like smugly self-assured. Of course, that's how he always looked. "You refuse to give me a chance?"
"You stole my brother," she reminded him, nervously backing up another step.
"Nonsense," he dismissed the accusation brusquely, "I took him at your request."
"I didn't mean it!"
He raised an eyebrow. "That's my fault?"
"I beat you."
For a moment, his lip curled in slight displeasure at this reminder, but his expression quickly returned to one of unconcerned nonchalance. "Indeed you did."
"I won him back fair and square."
"Yes," he agreed.
"So… why are you here?" Sarah finally asked again.
"As I said. To see an old friend." He patted the couch beside him. "Come. Sit. Talk with me."
She stared at him in disbelief.
"Really Sarah," he admonished gently, "I grant your wish, offer you your dreams, generously allow you to take back that wish—and you won't even do this one little thing for me?"
"What do you want?" she asked.
He quirked his lips. "To talk," he said.
"That's all?" she asked suspiciously.
His eyes trailed over her briefly. "For now."
The idea of being friends with the King of the Goblins was really too tempting for the dreamer in her to ignore. "Promise me that you won't touch Toby," she said.
He spread his hands. "So promised," he said. "Now come sit with me."
She hesitated for a moment, but slowly walked to the couch and sat down beside him—making sure to put several feet between the two of them.
"My parents will be home in a couple of hours," she told him nervously.
"I know," he said.
"Why do you want to talk to me?" she blurted out.
"You are the only human to have solved my Labyrinth," he said. "Obviously I am curious about you."
"You aren't angry? I thought you would be," she said awkwardly.
His eyes darkened briefly. "No," he said, though something in the way he said it made Sarah shiver. "No, I'm not angry."
It galled him to say it, but he carefully schooled his features into indifference and even friendliness towards Sarah. He did not at the moment have power over her; and he would do whatever it took to make that situation right again.
So as he sat beside her on the couch, he spoke gently to her, pretended as though he were a harmless little lamb. If there is one thing the King of the Goblins had, it was patience. And soon, oh, soon she would know his anger.
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A/N: Please read and review!