The golden pins clattered down upon the vanity table and floor when they missed; savagely they were ripped from the precise curls and braids they held in place. Raking fingers through her hair and tugging out any snags or decoration Lían denied any hot angry tears that threatened to fall. Instead she hurled the dark mask hanging limply in her hand across the room. Breathing heavily from furious exertions she shook her hair out and closed her eyes.
"You fool," she sighed quietly to herself.

Calmer now, and taking a deep breath, Lían shrugged off the elegant sea blue gown she had been wearing. She studied it as it lay on the bed, it was beautiful – the golden embroidery, the small twinkling diamonds, the lace frills, the real star flowers across the bodice. She brushed it off to the floor.
Pointless.
There'd be little point in wearing it again, that is, if there actually was a chance to.
It seemed emotions, fate and the future were all as cruel and twisted and merciless as the Labyrinth and its master.

Oh, she had enjoyed herself for a time, obeying, dancing, laughing, mocking and baiting the girl with everyone else. Enjoyed herself obeying whilst oblivious to the true purpose of his elusive movements amongst them. They had come to face each other, the girl and her King and they had come to dance. Curiously Lían had gazed from between the dancers at the pair. This was not what she had expected.
Not at all.
Echoing in her mind were his silvery spoken words, you will see… you will see, and so Lían had watched and waited. Waited for something to happen. Some grand design to unfold and astound her as always.
But nothing happened. And the dance went on.

The girls eyes were gazing up, a stray pup's eyes, sweet and endearing as she was spun around. There was no malice, no burning intensity or cruelty in his eyes. It was a scene far too close, far too comfortable. Simmering with bitterness and anger that clashed with her passion and fear Lían moved closer, watching, waiting, and all the time wishing to scratch the girls eyes out there and then!
But she obeyed; she laughed, she danced.
She waited still.

And finally! With a glance at the clock and a brief struggle the girl had let go and was pushing away, fleeing him. Lían turned to watch in interest as she was shoved to the side with the gathered crowds. Hands upon a chair the girl swung with all her might.

There was a shattering of glass and the room shook. Limbs flailing Lían managed to grasp hold of someone's coat lapels and right herself. Smoothing her dress she turned to look at where the girl had made her hasty exit.
So much for impressionable…
So the girl had been deterred, some of her precious minutes wasted and she had ran. And she had spurned Jareth; at least that was something. But there was still time left, and there was still defiance in the girl. And there was still something wrong, it had all been too simple, too comfortable. Lían broke from her thoughts and turned at the sound of his voice.

"The gall of it! Ruining one of my crystal balls!" his hands were raised in false alarm as the court sniggered at his pun, though his eyes were staring straight at her as Lían forced herself to laugh along. She looked away as if it was of no concern, as if her heart were not pounding, as if her insides were not squirming in that terribly pleasant way.
"You may go," he addressed the court, "Return to your duties, be patient."
Bowing their assent they withdrew, Lían made to follow but found herself halted by commanding tones,
"Not you."

Opening her fan with a practised flick of her wrist Lían batted it in front of her, ignoring the glances and looks from the retreating court. It had been intended to keep her calm, to preserve a sense of composure yet she could not keep the agitated fluttering of her hand from interfering with the casual pace she had wanted. There was a low grinding sound as the broken glass upon the floor crunched under booted feet that drew nearer with every measured step.

With lightening dexterity gloved fingers wrapped firmly around her hand, stilling the fluttering of the fan. Steeling herself Lían prepared as best she could for the unknown. Eyes looked from the fan to her face and with a fluid motion his other fingers spread over the mask and peeled it from her face. The Goblin King was smiling as he pressed the mask into her hand and stepped away.
"You did a perfect job Lían," how she loved how her name rolled so smoothly off his tongue, "I knew I could trust you."
"You know I live to serve you," her statement was pointed, but ignored,
"Was the event to your taste?"
Her pause was a mistake. An eyebrow arched at her.
"It was to my liking indeed, though I feel I am missing something…" Lían raised an eyebrow of her own.
A wickedly light laugh filled the now empty room in response. Jareth cast his arms open, "Really, I don't see what there is not to understand, it was a ball, there was dancing, there was feasting…"
Maintaining self-control failed.
"You know what I mean! What was that all about?! Why?"
Mismatched eyes glittered.
Idiot!
"Just a taster…" his voice was soft, barely above a whisper, "She won't give in now…you marked the delight in her eyes, the wonder, the amazement, I will offer her everything – any terms she will accept. She will forget the child, she will stay; I will win."
Lían's eyes widened, her mouth gaped in disbelief,
"But she ran away! This is dangerous Jareth - Just get rid of her!"
Smirking he shook his head at her, "Jealousy is a terrible thing."
"So is arrogance."

With a step he was closer, so close, but not touching, leaning right in, lips hovering millimetres from her ear,
"Aah but wouldn't have it any other way would we?"
He had her.

She wouldn't have it any other way. Even if it meant she could not have him. To have him give up on a prize after setting his sights on it and leading a merry dance towards it would ruin near all she saw in him. The smirks, the swaggering arrogance, the danger…she needed him that way. Where would the fun be in having him easily fall into her arms? Where would the thrill be in loving a King who would simply roll over? That was precisely why she had been so concerned by the recent turn of events… along with the smattering of jealousy of course.
But would he really win so easily? He seemed sure and that was enough painful reassurance for Lían of his imminent success…but…a treacherous thought… the girl had run, no, had forcibly smashed her way from the ball and his arms… true there had been wonder and amazement in the girls eyes but then that had vanished as those eyes noticed the clock…though she had danced happily enough before then…
Mind reeling in conflicts, Lían's tortured thoughts were almost gently interrupted, "Do you doubt me?"
The question hung in the air between them. With barely a look at him Lían knew her answer.
"Never," she whispered.

Still she could love him. Still he could delight and terrify. But there would never be a real chance for her, not with the girl around.
So this was the price of winning, of having things stay the same way. A price she should have known all along. She had been playing a game with the stakes far too high for her to realise. Except it wasn't a game. And never would be now.
Never.
The little pewter clock at her bedside ticked on.
The little pewter clock fast approaching the thirteenth hour.
Never.
Precious time drew on, the minute hand inching forwards.
Why had nothing happened? The girl was still coming…surely there would have been more noise, a struggle, a celebration?
Lían stared at the dark little hands of the clock as they drew nearer and nearer the last hour. What was happening?
The quiet after the commotion that had issued from the Goblin City earlier was unnerving. Every little whirring and ticking sound that issued from the clock seemed to echo around her room in the silence.
In one sweep of her hand the clock left the table and hit the floor, its glass front smashing, the mechanisms inside issuing half a chime as the first ringing of the hour was cut short.
Never.

Damn it all.

With a wildness she ran, dashing from her room, careering around corners without heed for anything or anyone in her path. Breath ragged she reached the great staircase, her bare feet slamming painfully on the steps.
Never, Never, Never!
It would not happen. It could not happen.
If a mere girl could be defiant then so could she. So must she.

Her feet slipped. Breath flying from her mouth, her eyes flew shut and wincing in preparation for the crack of her chin, the slamming of her hands upon stone… Lían felt nothing.
Hesitantly opening her scrunched tight eyes Lían took in the sights before her with a stifled cry. The steps were broken, floating beneath her, the roof was gone and exposed to the sky she was tumbling downwards. A flood of released and repressed power surged about her, drew her body back and forth in its warring currents.

The world was falling down.
And Lían and the Goblin King were both very much alone.

A/N: Firstly, thank you to those who have read/reviewed this. Secondly after having done something a bit different for this area of fanfiction just to get me started I'm now balancing two ideas for further and completely unrelated J/S fics though I'm undecided what to attempt first: would you prefer a nasty Jareth, or a semi typical unrelenting Jareth, determined to have Sarah's love? Let me know if you wish, otherwise I'll see what one I can start writing easiest...