It's Only Forever
by blacksilkrose123
©2008
disclaimer: I don't own them. just the plot.
There's a quickness in the way things end. The final leaf sifting through the air for the ultimate time. The last snow. Sunsets.
And then there was Jareth.
Sometimes she could feel him—in the whisper of the wind, the moonlight's caress, or the chill of the air when she was sleeping, buried beneath mounds of blankets and dreams that never came true. Because the day she left was her last chance at happily ever after.
Things never were the same after that. His world collapsed—her heart caved in. He was nothing more than a fairytale—she was nothing more than a lost dreamer. He lived for her—she was dying because of him.
Sarah Williams' boots crunched loudly in the March snow, leaving behind a map to the rest of her Happily Never After, begging from You Are Here to where she was marked with a crude, criss-crossed, crimson X. She doubted whether a simple Fey could read the dotted lines and strange symbols that lead straight to her heart stamped FRAGILE. But then, Jareth had never been simple.
She'd known that from the start. Even after her thirteen hours were up and he'd flown out of her life forever, Sarah could still breathe him, that rugged, musty fog of woods, glitter, and forget-me-nots. When she came home from school everyday, her house practically reeked of goblin. But her room was positively drenched with Jareth. If she closed her eyes for too long, all she could see was him—and then his arms would be around her, nose nuzzled into her neck, leg draped casually over her, exhaling three words over and over like a brainwashed mantra. The sighed syllables branded her neck, her skin, her heart until captivity took on a new name: ownership. Because those three little words were not those of a lover, but of a master.
You. Are. Mine.
Sarah exhaled loudly, watching the frozen puffs of cotton candy dissipate to nothing. She braced herself against the concrete railings, peering over at the rushing, black water. It swirled beneath. Sarah's hands came up to rest on the snow-covered wall, leaning further out. She could smell death. It was intoxicating, swirling around her head and toying with her senses. So dangerous, so lustrous, so…Jareth.
And she was up on the wall within seconds. It was the closest she'd gone this far in a while—but if it meant ridding her soul of those longings, that passion towards something she could never, ever have…then so be it.
She closed her eyes.
She spread her arms like wings.
She sucked in a crisp, burning breath.
And—
"SARAH!"
— Sarah smiled.
"What in the Underground are you doing?! You stupid, insufferable child! Get down before—"
"Before what?" she interrupted, unable to stop smiling. So it had worked. Maybe dreams did come true, or, her final wish did anyway. Just to hear him, listen to him beg to not do it, to go away with him to his castle, and live out her Happily Ever After. But, apparently, wishes only went so far with Jareth.
One moment she was nearly ready to fly, and the next, she found herself slammed onto the snow, pinned down by Jareth's boot. Of course, in her head, he was supposed to tumble and land atop her, breathing heavily on her face, where a major make-out session would commence. He would apologize, and she would accept. They'd go on—together, as one. But she kept forgetting that reality was unfairly different.
So there he stood, towering over her, nostrils flaring, mismatched eyes narrowed to a point at something on his right. His head was bowed, unruly hair sticking out to nearly obscure his beautiful face. Gloved hands clenched and unclenched.
"Before he realizes you're gone."
Sarah's eyes widened alarmingly. This was not in the plan. She had imagined him saying something along the lines of, "Before I lose you."
Disappointed. Again. "Who?"
"You're husband," Jareth spat, adding unnecessary pressure to the heal of his boot. Sarah winced.
She struggled to breathe. "Oh."
"Yes. 'Oh.'" Mocking. Rude. Arrogant. Jealous. Jareth.
"You've been stalking me." It wasn't a question. It was truth.
"I've been watching you," he corrected. "Checking in on a friend," he hissed the word, "from time to time hardly resembles stalking, Sarah."
"How long?"
He paused, but not from hesitation or uncertainty. "From the moment you stepped foot in my kingdom."
Sarah swallowed back the lump in her throat. "But you stopped. I felt it. You weren't there anymore one day. You just…weren't."
"I watched you from the moment you stepped foot in my kingdom," he repeated, turning to finally meet her confused stare, "until the moment you were no longer mine." And then he smiled, a sick, grueling smile not meant to ease Sarah. "A shame how quickly that will end."
"What? What do you mean?" Her eyes thinned to slits when he gave her stomach one last shove before removing his boot. Jareth dusted himself off as if the mere proximity with her disgusted him. And maybe it did.
"I mean, dear girl, I will be rid of you for good. No more thoughts, no more wonderings, it all ends tonight."
Sarah scooted away from him in the snow. She shivered, but it wasn't from the cold. "You're going to kill me?"
Eyes flashed furiously, but his mask slammed itself back into place. There was a mischievous grin, and he took a step in her direction. She balked. "Do you think I'm going to kill you, Sarah Williams?"
Silence.
He sighed, bored. "I would not waste my time with such violence, however easy it would be. If I'd wanted you dead, I would have never stopped you from jumping." Jareth paused, eyeing her warily. "I'm engaged, Sarah."
She tried to sound strong—if not for him, then for herself. "To whom?"
Jareth sneered. "Jealous, Sarah?"
But Sarah just frowned, rapidly blinking away those damnable, rebellious tears. "No, I'm…happy…for you."
"Really, now. Sarah."
"Stop saying my name, damnit!" she screamed, striking her fists, hard, into the snow. It stung, and a fresh wave of tears began slipping down her cheeks; she half-heartedly wondered if they would freeze there. "I don't," she gasped, "want you to say my name! Not now, not ever."
In two swift strides, Jareth knelt before her and took her face into his hand. She tried to jerk her head away, but the grip on her jaw told her there would be bruises in the morning—if she lived to see the morning.
"You. Do not. Order. Me." He threw Sarah away from him, rising to his feet as the sky darkened around him. "I am a King, Sarah. And I will be treated as such. I demand respect from my subjects. Any protocol less than expected calls for certain death."
"Certain death, my ass," she bit out mockingly. "You're on my turf now, Goblin King."
"Oh, am I?" Harsh, his words grated against her ears like metal on metal. Her vision wavered for a moment, colors swirling, before swiveling to a violent stop. Her stomach lurched. Sarah blinked a few times before raising her gaze from the ground to Jareth.
The bridge had vanished. The snow was gone. And the castle, desolate and demanding like its owner, loomed behind its king.
Jareth folded his arms, brow quirked, lips set in a thin, dangerous line—waiting.
Sarah just glared at him, rubbing furiously at her half-frozen arms. She remained where she was on the floor of the Labyrinth.
Waving his hand dramatically, Jareth quipped, "Your turf, is it?"
She suddenly jumped to her feet, worn from his games. "Why don't you cut to the chase, Jareth, and tell me what the hell you're doing back in my life?" Sarah jabbed a finger into his chest. "Because if you're here to gloat about how perfect your life is with her, then I suggest you leave. Now."
Jareth watched her with widened eyes, surprised at his Sarah. He chuckled quietly, his façade of rage softening into that familiar Jareth, not a King, but the immortal she fell in love with.
"You know," she whispered, taking a few steps back—away from him, "for years I disappeared from the world. I hid every part of me, tucking it away somewhere in here." She touched her chest and shook her head. "But I don't want to disappear. Not from you."
"Sarah, it's over." He surveyed her face calmly, watching for her breakdown.
"It can't be. Not when this just started again."
Jareth smiled sadly. "It's not fair, is it?"
"No."
"No, it never is."
"You can't wish us together?"
"I offered you galaxies, Sarah. I offered you worlds, kingdoms, kings—me. But you refused me, in all my generosity," he scoffed bitterly. "I find you ungrateful."
"I've changed."
"No, you've aged, dear girl. But you're still my infuriatingly stubborn Sarah."
"Jareth, please."
One step forward, two steps back. A wall was forced between them. One that had steadily been rising for some time now—and there was nothing either could do about it.
"It's too late."
"No."
"It's finished," he hissed, pulling further away from her. "Save your dignity and stop begging me, Sarah, because you can't change this. For once, I can't grant what you want, stubborn child. So, for both our sakes, just let me go."
Sarah turned her head away from him, picking a knot in the ground to stare at. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She forced them back, choking down a sob that had somehow lodged itself within her throat.
Jareth watched her for a moment, unfolding his arms to let them hang uselessly at his sides, palms facing her.
"It's time for our end, Sarah. And please, please don't call on me. I won't answer. It will just make things," he paused, searching for the right words, "easier. On you."
Sarah sniffed. "And for you? Is it that easy? To forget?"
"Never."
"Then why do it at all?" she pleaded, rounding on him again. "It doesn't have to be this way."
Jareth nodded. "It does."
"Why?" Her bottom lip jutted out, and she couldn't help the tears that had begun sliding down her frozen cheeks.
"Because I have a kingdom to manage, Sarah," he chewed out through gritted teeth, "and a wife to cherish. I will not throw that away, everything I've worked for for these past thirteen years, just on your childish whimsical moments. You'll change your mind soon enough. But I will not see myself fall to ruins at your hands again, Sarah Williams. I won't let it happen again."
"And Ludo? Sir Didymus? Hoggle? What about them? Am I restricted from seeing them as well?"
"Hogsbrains will put up a bit of a fight—but with a little…coaxing…they'll soon forget all of this." Jareth inhaled sharply, hurriedly marching his way up to Sarah until they were breaths apart. "I could do the same for you."
"How long?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"How long would the spell last? Until I'm happily moved on, or…" she trailed off as he finished for her.
"Forever, Sarah."
She looked up at him through the tears. "Could you do it on yourself?"
He shook his head, careful to wipe all emotion from his face.
"Then, no. I don't want to lose that, Jareth. Please. If I lose you, I lose myself."
But it seemed as if some long-thought decision had already been slammed into place. He watched her narrowly. Jareth leaned in closer, and his smell intoxicated Sarah. She felt lightheaded, naturally swooning into him. And he preferred it that way. He didn't want to be the cause for her downfall. In the end. He just wanted to make things right.
Jareth tilted her chin up, lips gently brushing across her own. "Our first, and last." And they were leaning into each other. She was as rigid as stone, but he melded against her, his hand coming up to tangle in her silken hair, pulling her closer—because if he pulled away too soon, he could never take it back.
Sarah gave that kiss everything she had. Fire boiled through her veins, and although she couldn't move, she transferred every ounce of love into her lips. And she wondered, mildly, if he even noticed.
Jareth's lips tilted back toward her ear, his hot breath caressing its shell. "It's only forever. Not long at all."
Sarah Williams closed her eyes. And when she opened them, she was back on the bridge, alone, without the faintest idea how she had gotten there.