Chapter Six: Those Who Do Not Remember The Past...

Up until this point, Sarah might have written off her dreams as the product of stress or an active imagination with nothing to focus on. The haunting sense of realism that accompanied her dreams would have been a bit hard to dismiss, but she would have tried.

The necklace, however, was a little damning.

There was a strange duality about her current situation. It had been easy to believe everything was real while it was happening but then brush it aside once she woke up. However, maintaining her dance was a little more difficult when those two realities began to meet. And with one intricately designed necklace and hourglass, meet they did. The worlds were starting to bleed together.

For so long Sarah had wished for something beyond the life she was getting, but now living, breathing fantasy was knocking at her door and she wasn't sure she could handle the price it was demanding. Thirteen hours, with him.

She had been a fanciful little girl, full of dreams and wonder. Back when the days had been long and lonely she had filled them with enchanted dreams, a shield against an uncaring world. Her stories had usually involved elves or dwarves and had run a plot that sounded suspiciously like Robin Hood. But when things went wrong, when she had been angry or hurt, she had always taken refuge in tales of being swept away by mysterious princes who would care for her as her family or friends could not.

So Jareth made her uneasy. He was more powerful and charismatic than any princeling she'd ever dreamt about, but he was also more driven and far more dangerous. The Labyrinth had been everything she had expected, but the Goblin King himself had been a wild card. He was elusive and unpredictable, shrewd and conniving, and she hadn't expected to respond to him in the way that she had. It wasn't just that he was attractive, though there was no denying that he was bursting with an ethereal beauty. The problem was that he had been the answer to her every question, as though her every dream had been carefully inspected for the best details and then put together to form one, single man. And she wasn't too proud to admit that it was frightening to have everything she'd ever wanted in one package. He was mystery and magic and desire woven into a shape she could not understand: a wild beast whose motivations and actions were completely unfathomable.

Years had passed and she still didn't know how to read him.

Why did he want thirteen hours from her?

It was childish, but to avoid Jareth just a little while longer, Sarah had been prepared to stay awake for the rest of the night. However, she quickly found that, while her mind was in agreement, her body was not. Weariness swept over her limbs and her eyes refused to stay open. With a defeated sigh, she climbed back into her bed and sent out a quiet prayer for a reprieve from the Goblin King.

Her prayer was duly ignored.

He stood proud and menacing, drenched in the darkest of blacks. Magic swirled and glittered in the air around him, much the same way that his cloak swirled in the breeze coming from the open doors at his back. His face was angular but somehow delicate: a mouth twisted into a smirk, a narrow nose, mesmerizing eyes, and eyebrows that swooped above pale colors that didn't look like any makeup Sarah had ever seen. He titled his head to the side, and his golden-silver hair became accentuated by the shear darkness of the collar it was now draping over.

The man was certainly Jareth, if only the echo of his memory. Sarah studied the scene of their first meeting as she had not been able to when it had actually happened.

She hadn't realized how piteous she had sounded, how cowed and trembling she'd been at first. Or how completely unaffected she'd been by his other-worldliness until he'd stepped so very close to her on that orange-sand hill. The fifteen year old gave a jump when his voice suddenly spoke in her ear, and Sarah knew from that point on she had not only been fighting him, but her attraction for him as well.

She had instantly become obsessed with his book. It had so closely mirrored some of her own stories that it would have been nearly impossible for her not to like it. But she hadn't called for him yet, and so he waited. But the King had never been a patient man; he had begun to follow her in the form of his familiar, a swift and silent predator of the night, a noble white owl. She read and acted and played but never said the words that were most important, and it was beginning to drive him mad.

Studying Sarah from afar had not given him any useful insights about their connection; it had merely made him crave her companionship. When she had directly asked for him for the first time, he had been willing to ignore it: she was simply a young girl who had been left alone a few times too often. The second time she had asked had been too much. He wanted her near, and he was not strong enough to deny her wishes again. Perhaps they were bonded by a mutual desire to ease their loneliness?

It took Sarah a few months, but she finally said something. "Someone take me away from this awful place!" She had shouted it melodramatically while clutching a stuffed bear to her chest. They weren't exactly The Words, but he had already waited too long, so they were close enough.

By the time he'd decided that, however, she had already moved on, angrily telling one of her stories to her brother. And then, after the most painfully long months of his life, she finally, finally, said The Words.

But not for herself.

Months of careful planning, calculating, watching, longing, and she wasted The Words on her sniveling baby brother! He could have screamed at the misstep. What the hell could he want her brother for? He had not just spent the last decade and a half watching this girl so that he could dole out another tedious bit of his revenge against the humans.

In the back of his mind, in the dark recess that was always at one with his Labyrinth, the very part of him that had conceived of that nightmarish twisting of corridors and reality, a plan began to form. Perhaps this was not a total loss; after all Sarah would still have to come to his kingdom in order try and win back her brother.

But their first meeting after so many years had gone oddly. From the beginning he had set himself up as the villain, but she needed to understand that he was just as dangerous as he could be loving. Her terror had aggravated him, but she had quickly discovered her spine of steel and he couldn't have been more thrilled.

Yet something was still off.

Sarah never once questioned how he already knew her name and she never seemed to make the connection between the Goblin King she had cried out to as a child and the man who stood before her. It was like the girl had selective memory failure.

He wouldn't be deterred, however. She was in his domain now, and he was determined to keep her there.

The pressing darkness of the oubliette had been terrifying, but she would have gladly turned back around if she had known that he was only a few paces ahead of her. Sarah frowned as she watched her younger self ambling forward. Of course, she knew, that wasn't really true. As much as she loved to hate Jareth, she had enjoyed bantering with him; being able to clash on an intellectual level had been exciting.

She hated herself for it, but as he stood there threatening Hoggle, she felt a small thrill go down her spine. It only increased when he turned his attention on the younger echo Sarah. His stride was a lazy stalking, something she hadn't noticed before. He used one arm to lean against the tunnel wall and towered over the girl. When she had been in that position she had thought he merely meant to intimidate her with his height, but he was too close, leaning too casually, and there was something dangerous in the quiet energy that surrounded him.

"And you Sarah. How are you enjoying my Labyrinth?" The words were the same, but the inflections sounded wrong. It was still quiet and mocking, but also low and… husky? He hadn't said it like that, had he?

But her response was still the same. If the other her had noticed, she did a wonderful job of hiding it. His own response was slightly different than she had remembered it, a mocking subtraction of hours and angrily sending the cleaners after her. The actions remained but he seemed more elated than mocking and more gleeful than angry. Could she have really misjudged the situation so much?

He had hoped that the oubliette would be the end of her wanderings, but he hadn't counted on her ability to charm aid out of the dwarf. It seemed that he was doomed to see all thirteen hours come to a close before he could have his Sarah.

But there wasn't enough patience left in him for that. He had waited long enough already! There had to be some way to turn the situation to his advantage. There always was, of course; it was his kingdom, therefore he made the rules.

"It's a piece of cake," she had announced arrogantly. He should have been chagrined, mortals three times her age had found his Labyrinth to be an insurmountable challenge, but instead he was filled with pride. His girl was a spitfire, and not to be taken lightly. She couldn't navigate with anywhere near the ease he possessed, but it delighted him to know that Sarah was closer to him than any who had come before her. A cut above all those bumbling humans.

He responded with the very reason he had arranged this visit in the first place; he wound his clock forward, speeding through several hours of her time. Impatience was not his sole motivator. There had been others that had gotten this far before, but none he was so intent on keeping, and none with so much ease. Granted it had taken her several hours, but she seemed to waltz through his challenges with immunity and it made him uneasy.

"That's not fair!" she shouted, outraged. No, it wasn't, but playing fair didn't win the game. The Goblin King was playing for keeps, and nothing as silly as fairness was going to stand in his way.

The cleaners had been a spur of the moment decision, but he had wanted to see how she would rise to the challenge; the locked passageway had just been for kicks. No harm would have come to her, and if she managed to find a way passed the whirling menagerie of blades, then at the very least she would have been lead away from the shortest path.

The fifteen year old was dressed in a tight bodice fitted over sparkling white skirts that billowed gently down to the ground. Her hair was pulled away from her face and set into loose curls that twisted through two silver clasps. She wandered between the dancers in the ballroom, lost. Lost, alone, and much too young to be there. A child thrown into an adult world that she was not ready for. The other dancers were dressed in dark and decadent attire that seemed to reflect their general depravity, but she flitted about, a brief flash of blinding innocence looking for something elusive.

And then he was there, dancing with her. Dressed in a regal outfit that looked as though he had made it from the night sky: blue velvet studded with magic and precious jewels. His hair was streaked with blue to match his clothing and his skin practically glowed with power. Jareth was in his element here, looking every inch the elegant King.

Sarah watched him twirl her about the dance floor. She had learned to waltz in those arms, she realized. It was terrifying to remember how close he had been to winning at this very point, how close she had been to forgetting everything. But god, his words had been so haunting, so romantic! It had spun her head.

If it hadn't been for that clock announcing the twelfth hour she had a feeling that she never would have broken away from his embrace.

He could admit that he had acted out of jealousy, but the dwarf had spent more time with Sarah than he had, even received a kiss from those lovely rose lips of hers! The peach had only been intended as a distraction but that kiss had sent something angry coursing through him. Why show so much kindness to the dwarf when the King was the one providing the fantasy? Was this not enough; did she need more? Something more in line with her romantic streak, perhaps? So he set up the ball, fueled by her dreams of Princes.

But it hadn't turned out quite right. He was so used to twisting things that the occupants of the party had a decidedly darker edge than he had intended. Still, it wasn't too far off.

He watched her meander up and down the great steps, drinking in the sight of her. Somewhat childish, he decided, he certainly would have gone with something a little darker, a little more revealing, but still she was a vision of beauty to him. He evaded her for a while, trying to entice her, heighten her excitement. But she looked so lovely and lost that he couldn't keep himself away for too long.

His words had been soft and enchanting, a plea for her to see the tender side of him. He could treat her like the most beloved of treasures if she would let him. The King had twirled her around the great room, singing words of endless devotion, but she didn't seem to understand. Oh she heard the words, and undoubtedly she thought them romantic, but she didn't seem to know that he was singing to her. For her. And not just an overplayed ballad or an over recited sonnet, but words that came from deep within. From his heart. Only for her.

But she didn't known how to react and was quickly becoming overwhelmed. Her eyes locked with his for a moment, and he could see her confusion and her fear. He didn't want to believe that she wasn't ready for this yet, not when she was so close. But looking back at him were the haunted eyes of a child who was seeing too much, too soon. That was the only reason why, when she managed to tear herself away from him, he let her go.

Out of everything that had happened to her in the Labyrinth, it was still her final confrontation with Jareth that unnerved Sarah the most. She had been so desperate, not only fighting the clock but the Escher Room's very design. As Toby crawled across ceilings, she ran down walls. Then he was on the floor, but she on the other wall now, always on a plane that didn't connect close enough to his own.

And watching it all was Jareth, striding over upside-down staircases and leaning against doorways. The hair on the back of Sarah's neck stood on end listening to his haunting melody. She only vaguely recalled him having said anything at all. Certainly not this. This was an unholy combination of love song and mourning dirge. It was beautifully sad.

But the words… Had he really said that?

And suddenly it all made sense. Sarah had never understood his final lines to her; it hadn't seemed like something her villain should have said. "Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave," he had pleaded, and if she hadn't been trying to remember her own lines she would have been bewildered. What reason did he have to ask for her love? But it fit together now: his closeness, the tone of voice he had used, the ways he had tried to serenade her, and how he had offered her her dreams. The things that had confused her tonight, things that she remembered slightly different, they had happened, she just hadn't noticed them the first time around, because she'd only been fifteen. She was incapable of understand what he was asking of her because she had never felt anything like it before.

What reason did he have to ask for her love? Because she already had his.

But the fifteen year old Sarah Williams plowed on heedlessly. She boldly said the words that would ensure her victory against the nefarious villain. Now she realized that it wasn't a triumph of good over evil, but a young girl ripping out the heart of a man. His final expression was filled with such heartache, such longing, that her own heart clenched in sympathy. She had done this to him, without even a second thought, and without realizing she held his affections, she had defeated him with softly spoken cruelty.

"You have no power over me."

She hadn't understood any of it, he realized with subdued horror. It had just been a game, another story for her to be the champion of. Sarah either thought nothing of his feelings or had never understood them at all. Such cruelty he had suffered at her hands, not only loosing at his own game, but having his heart flung back like a trifling matter.

He had seen her home, had to make sure she made it back safely, and had stayed just long enough to be certain her parents had come back from their evening out. Now, he was lying on the wrecked floor—or perhaps it was a wall—of the Escher Room, trying to figure out where, exactly, things had gone wrong.

Perhaps he had fallen into the role of the villain too well, but he had never pretended to be anything he was not. Or perhaps she had come to the misguided conclusion that his affections were not genuine, merely a trick to distract her.

He paused.

That was just it, wasn't it? Sarah hadn't realized that it was never about the baby. He slapped a hand over his face in frustration. And why would she have? He had never given her any reason to think he had absolutely no interest in the wailing Toby. A sigh burst out from between his lips, and he moved the hand from over his eyes to run through his wild hair. He had made a mess of things, he realized, utterly screwed them up. The situation was hardly salvageable.

But he would still try.

If nothing else, Jareth was a persistent king. All he needed was a plan.

For the first time in several days, Sarah did not jolt out of bed upon awakening. She simply laid there, swaddled in heavily wrinkled blankets, contemplating.

On an instinctual level she had known that spending any amount of time with Jareth would be hard; he made her uneasy and she was never sure what to expect from him. But after the revelation that her dreams had provided her, she now she knew it would be even more difficult. The man loved her! Or, at least, he had. And that was the problem, wasn't it? She had learned so much about the haughty Goblin King, but still knew nothing about Jareth. It was entirely possible that he no longer felt anything for her at all, and no one could blame him after she had so blindly ripped his heart out. Had his love turned into hate? Passion was so forthcoming in both emotions; it would not be hard to make the transition from one to the other. Either way, she wouldn't know how to act around him.

Sarah rolled over, further tangling herself in the sheets. She felt awful.

In the course of her nineteen years she had dealt with the messy business of rejecting advances from boys who had crushes on her, but that was something small. They had been asking for afternoons together, time to decide if they enjoyed her company as much as they did her beauty. It wasn't about love; hell, it was hardly even about like!

But someone had loved her. How often did that truly happen in one lifetime? And she hadn't even been polite in her rejection because she hadn't realized what he was offering. He had spoken of devotion, of eternity, and she couldn't have understood because all she had known was fleeting interests and frequent breakups. How painful it must have been for him, to have so much power at his command and yet be so powerless to keep the one thing he wanted. Briefly, Sarah thought of the ballroom; he had been so sweet then.

Now she felt downright terrible.

There had to be a way to make amends. "Yeah," she snorted to herself, "I'll just go up to him and apologize. 'Wow Jareth, I'm sorry that I never realized you were head over heels for me, but I was a whiny little snot who was completely oblivious. I get it now, though. So, would you like to grab a coffee together sometime?' God, I'm such an idiot!"

"But a delightful idiot, nonetheless," Jareth's voice rumbled playfully from the foot of her bed.

Sarah steeled herself for a quick look. There, leaning casually against her tiny little footboard, was the King himself, looking decidedly displaced. He was clothed more simply than she'd ever seen him, in a frock-style shirt—which was something new for him, she realized; most of his shirts had been open-chested until damn well near the waist—and a pair of sinfully tight black breeches with a pair of equally black boots.

Even in such plain ware he looked like royalty. The rest of the room didn't match him—and that was simply the way it had to be said; it wasn't quite right to say that the King didn't match the room. For a moment Sarah wondered why her thoughts were defending his position in her world.

Her thoughts where abruptly terminated when his questing gaze settled on her skimpy pajama shirt. She shifted uneasily, burrowing a little to hide behind her blankets. "What are you doing here?"

He gave her an amused look and pointed at the hourglass sitting quietly on her vanity table. "Have you forgotten so soon?" A few powdery crystals of fine black sand gently fell through to thicken the dusting in the bottom bulb.

"You're in my room," Sarah panicked, eyes widening.

Jareth raised an elegant brow. "It would seem so, yes."

"No, no. You don't get it. You can't be here!" She cast wary eyes around the room, looking hunted.

He frowned at her. "It's well within my rights, Sarah. Anytime, anywhere, that was the deal." He cocked his head to the side, causing the shimmering fabric pinned at his throat to ripple slightly.

"Yes, but it's," she cast a quick glance at her clock, "eight in the morning, and you are in my bedroom. What if my Dad comes in, or Karen? This could get me into a lot of trouble! And couldn't you have at least waited until I was decent before you decided to harass me?"

"Afraid someone will jump to conclusions?" He laughed. "You needn't worry; you're the only one who can see me right now. And as for your current state of… dress," his eyes raked over what little she hadn't been able to cover, blazing briefly when they landed on the necklace, "well, it's simply a hazard of our agreement."

She gritted her teeth. "What do you want?" she asked lowly.

"Ah," he shook a velvet covered finger at her playfully, "now that would be telling." His laughter rang out, loud and clear, but Jareth had already vanished in a burst icy magic.

Sarah shivered. 'So,' she decided, 'this is what my life has become. I am now at the mercy of his Royal Majesty's whims.' She got out of bed and quickly pulled out some clothes from her dresser. For a moment she paused. He was gone but he could come back, and she had no desire to show him any more 'hazards of the agreement'. True, he could probably show up in the bathroom just as easily as he had in her bedroom, but the distance made her feel a little safer.

Fully dressed in jeans and a sweater, Sarah went down the stairs two at a time. She wasn't usually a breakfast person but she hadn't eaten well the night before; she subsequently found herself starving this morning. As expected, Toby was sitting at the kitchen table, nearly asleep in his bowl of cereal, and Karen was bustling about, cleaning something that was probably already spotless.

"Good morning," the older woman said without turning around.

"G'morning," Sarah returned stiffly. They were still adversaries of sorts, though their actions towards each other spoke more of routine than any actual malice. She had tried to get along with the woman, but it seemed that they were just too different. Shaking the thoughts from her head, she reached across the table for the cereal box.

"Sarah?" This time Karen did turn around.

She was hit with an immense sense of dread. "Yeah?"

Her Stepmother fixed her with a confused look. "Who was that laughing a minute ago?"

He was shameless, he could admit it, but the few hours of sleep that he had granted Sarah had been torturous for him. Chivalry demanded that he apologize for taking her by such surprise, but… Well, he had just enjoyed seeing her in that small blue shirt too much. Now she was dressed in faded jeans and a red and white sweater, and he was lamenting the loss of her cream colored skin. Such beauty should never be covered!

Poor Sarah had her mouth hanging open in the most adorably confused expression. It seemed she was realizing that just because no one could see him didn't mean they couldn't hear him.

His intentions were not to drive her insane, merely to keep her as unbalanced as he had felt over the past few years. At times he would be tender, compassionate, even giving; he would romance her, going to whatever extreme he had to in order to secure her heart. But he would also be a nuisance; mischief was simply in his nature, and he could not abstain from it.

Jareth hadn't been completely honest when he had told her that this arrangement was not about revenge. Some part of him wanted her to pay for the endless frustration he'd suffered, for the pain she'd dealt him. A larger part of him loved her as he'd never loved anything, but Jareth was nothing if not a slave to his innate sense of revenge.

Sarah closed her mouth and clenched her jaw nervously. "I, uh… must have left my radio on when I went into the bathroom," she managed to lie without stuttering. He wondered if she would always be able to cover his presence with flimsy excuses. 'I'll just have to make myself a bit more obvious then.' It would be interesting to see how she would react to being backed into a corner. He had no intention of keeping her family in the dark. Of course, he couldn't tell them the absolute truth, but he was going to make certain they knew that Sarah was being courted.

'I'll have to pace myself,' he realized. Thirteen hours wasn't really all that long when he thought about it. Although, he smirked, thirteen hours of her time didn't quite equate to thirteen hours of his. Dear Sarah was just going to have to figure that out the hard way.

'That rotten little cheat!' Sarah fumed, but it brought no relief so she tried again. 'That dirty, no-good jerk!' No, she was definitely still angry.

Karen watched her suspiciously as she continued to mutilate the cereal in her bowl. Obviously the older woman hadn't believed her fib. 'Yeah,' she thought darkly, 'like I'm hiding some guy in my room, Karen.' She chose to ignore the fact that, technically, she had been doing just that.

Angrily, she started shredding her toast into little strips.

It seemed Jareth was already getting the most out his time. How could someone who was probably hundreds, if not thousands of years old be so childish?

Sarah shook her head. 'No,' she thought, 'I can't let myself fall in to thinking that.' While it was true that his Highness seemed to have developed a playful streak a mile wide, it didn't change the fact that underneath his foppish exterior was a dangerous man. He was just trying to distract her; whatever he had planned was big, and Sarah had no intention of follow him into it blindly. Let him have his stupid fun, but when it came time for the real fight, she would be ready.

'Will you be able to resist him, knowing now that he loved you?' a small part of her whispered. Her fingers paused their destructive work. Whether she had wanted it to happen or not, this morning's revelation had changed her view of Jareth. Before, he had been something wild and pretty, something she could gawk at but never have. Now that she was older and could see the Labyrinth from a different angle, a new awareness had filled her. Jareth was man, or rather male, seeing as he wasn't human. He was still beautiful and deadly, but he was no longer unattainable. And that, unfortunately, worked in his favor. It was easy to defeat an enemy that wouldn't fight with their full strength because they were blinded by love.

Sarah groaned. She wasn't really sure how she felt about Jareth yet. Her emotions were just too conflicted where he was concerned. The days ahead of her were going to be hard, she realized. Without knowing what game he was playing, she was just going to have to do her best to stay emotionally distant from him. If she didn't allow feelings to develop, then he couldn't play the romance card in order to win whatever it was he was playing at.

Karen gave her another calculating glance. "So, does this radio of yours have a name?"

Jareth gazed deep into one of his crystals, fighting the urge to laugh; if he hadn't been surrounded by the lords and ladies of The Court he would have indulged himself. It seemed Sarah's pathetic lie was as transparent to her-stepmother as it was to him. He smiled sharply.

The young lord to his left eyed him curiously. "Your Majesty?" the boy questioned softly.

Jareth sighed to himself, letting his expression go blank.

He detested the roundabout courtesies that dictated when The Court had to be in session. Mostly the nobles just irritated him, but it was occasionally refreshing to see old friends, and he was certainly eager to hear from the voice of his people. Without The Court it was nearly impossible for him to know the absolute ins and outs of his kingdom. While it was true that nothing in the Labyrinth escaped his notice, it was not possible to keep an eye on the entire Underground without assistance. He merely wished that he could have more control over when The Court convened. But, of course, it was considered a tradition for him to pay his respect to the noble houses by allowing them to choose when The Court met. And Jareth was many things, but a disrespectful King was not one of them.

Court was always held at the capital city of K'shent Mier, in the opulent castle that Jareth had had commissioned when he was still but a Prince. He always enjoyed staying in that particular castle: it was peaceful when compared to the chaos of the Labyrinth, and it had always felt the closest thing to home outside of his father's ancestral land. However, presiding over a Court of beings who were older than the Roman Empire yet still squabbled like children did diminish his joy somewhat. Especially when he would rather be helping Sarah get into more trouble.

The young lord subtly tried to move so that he could see what was reflected in his King's crystal.

Jareth gave Sarah one last longing glance before voiding the image, knowing that he would have to retrieve the tail-end of that conversation when he was alone. The lordling had enough decency to look slightly embarrassed, though mostly just curious.

Jareth was keenly aware that he walked a fine line. In Sarah's world, away from prying eyes, he was free to do as wished, but in his own world he needed to guard his personal life jealously. The last thing he needed was for the nobility to catch wind that he was showing interest in a female. He had only just gotten the advisory council to stop hounding him about finding a wife; he did not need them interfering with the plans he had for his delightful little mortal.

Things had ended badly last time because he had been rushed, and he was determined not to make the same mistake twice. He would rather deal with The Court's anger at not knowing he was pursuing his intended when the deed was done, especially if the alternative meant potentially losing Sarah again. Somehow, he knew that a second rejection would strip him of all sanity.

The lords and ladies continued to argue, as they had since the dawn of time. At least his human Prince had had the decency to show up this time, he noted dully.

Boredom eating at him already, Jareth slumped in his seat and summoned a glass of wine, knowing that the rest of the day was going to be miserable at best. Night could not descend fast enough.

Sarah would have bet anything in her possession that her eyes were nearly popping out of her skull. "There isn't-… I'm not," she stuttered out in near panic. The last thing she needed was her stepmother thinking she had a secret boyfriend! Belatedly realizing that her babbling was only confirming the older woman's suspicions, Sarah straightened and began again. "Karen, you don't honestly believe," but her stepmother cut her off with a disbelieving wave of her hand.

Obviously, she did believe.

Toby was giggling into his breakfast like it was the funniest thing in the world, while Karen leaned against the counter to fix her stepdaughter with the weirdest combination of approval and dismay. "Sarah, at your age, I'd be worried if you weren't dating," the older woman began, "but don't you think your father and I should meet the young man before you start bringing him into the house?"

Sarah tried to protest once more, but Karen would have none of it.

"I know at your age it's all about the romance and the adventure, and I understand that you're probably looking for a little 'danger' to keep things exciting. Honestly, I'm happy that you've found someone you like to spend time with, but I really don't think it proper, or decent, for you to be alone in your room with a boy that no one has even met." She fixed the girl with a look of such giddy, maternal pride that Sarah could barely find it within herself to argue.

Finally, Karen was opening up to her, was proud of something that she had done, and she couldn't take credit because it was only a misunderstanding. 'Damn you Jareth,' Sarah thought. 'If I take advantage of the situation I know you'll find a way to turn things against me; but if I don't …'

Karen was actually smiling at her. How often had that happened in all the years they'd known each other?

'Damn you Jareth.'

The meetings had dragged on at a painfully slow rate and nothing had been accomplished. Jareth always had the vague fear that this session would be the one that lasted a decade—an agonizing punishment for an impatient Immortal. The nobility hadn't even gotten beyond land squabbles and boarder skirmishes yet, to say nothing of substantial grievances!

Under normal circumstances, nothing came before the safety and wellbeing of his kingdom but then, when had anything involving Sarah been normal? Jareth could feel the crushing weight of the limited time he had with her; he had only a precious few hours to completely turn their relationship around. Granted, their agreement allowed him to spend her time at his leisure, but there was only so much of it, and spreading it too thin would give Sarah far too much time to rally against him. If his little human was left alone for too long, she would no doubt jump to all the wrong conclusions. Again.

Jareth heaved a sigh, gratefully entering his suite of rooms. Night had finally settled over the Underground, but it would still be a while before he could go to Sarah. Sometimes, he cursed the discrepancies in time between their realms; yet another element that conspired to keep them apart.

With a groan, he settled himself into one of the plush chairs scattered around his sitting room, slumping deep into the velvet cushions while throwing a leg over the armrest. The problem with being in K'shent Mier was that the meetings bored him to death, but when they were done for the day there was rarely anything else to do. Boredom consumed him no matter what and, until the sun fell in the mortal realm, he could not occupy himself with his Lady.

A sudden thought struck him and he perked up. He could do the next best thing.

Quickly he summoned the crystal he had been toying with earlier that day. With any luck Sarah's stepmother had given her a hard time.

Several minutes later, Jareth couldn't believe his luck.

The crystal lay, smooth and shining, in his palm, and he gazed into it blankly while thinking on the conversation he'd only just witnessed.

It was simply too good to be true.

A wicked smile bloomed over his features. This was perfect, absolutely perfect!

The Karen-creature believed Sarah had a secret lover, which meant two things: first, he was definitely making his presence felt, and second, his girl was in a wonderful dilemma. If she wanted the continued approval of her stepmother then she had to carry on with the 'illusion' that she had a suitor. Of course, she had no mortal boy, but he would be more than happy to help her convince her parents she was having a spot of romance... For a price.

But those particulars could wait until tomorrow, for tonight he already had something planned.

Sarah threw herself on her bed, landing in a boneless heap near the pillow. "What a rotten day," she groused into the comforter. Karen had not let up one bit, was constantly asking questions that she had no answers to, refusing to believe her when she tried denying the existence of her 'boyfriend'. The more she argued, the more her stepmother gushed. Right now she wanted nothing more than to scream, long and loud, into her pillow but she couldn't bring herself to move from her fetal position.

'I'm going to strangle Jareth the next time I see him,' Sarah thought detachedly. He had never said anything about involving other people in this whole snafu when he had listed his terms. 'Of course,' she thought bitterly, 'he didn't really didn't really give me a chance to read the contract.'

Thoughts of the contract had plagued her all day, horrible ideas festering in the absence of certainty. When it came right down to it, Sarah had no idea what she had signed away and no way of finding out without asking Jareth. She was bold enough to demand it but, knowing the trickster as she did, she had no doubt that his answers would be less than truthful.

She glanced over at the hourglass, confirming the small amount of time that had already been paid. Hopefully Jareth would honor his part of the agreement and leave her alone after the sand finally ran out.

It was weird, she thought, to see the top bulb of the glass so full with sand, defiantly resisting the pull of gravity.

Sarah began to pace in agitation, absently rubbing her fingers over the necklace. That was another thing she could strangle the Goblin King for. There was no clasp or catch and the chain was too short to slip over her head. Granted, it felt comfortable caressing her neck and it was pretty enough to wear anywhere, but it certainly wasn't helping her convince her stepmother that she wasn't hiding a beau from the family.

She settled at the window, watching the sun set. It was weird, she thought as the golden rays bled crimson and orange, how untroubled she'd been just a few days ago. Things were so much more complicated now. Why couldn't Jareth have stayed in her dreams? The man hadn't even been in her room for five minutes and already she was in a world of trouble. It was odd how in his world, where she was at every disadvantage, she found it easier to deal with him. But in her world, where she should have felt more at ease, it became impossible to understand him.

Shaking her head, Sarah wedged herself onto the tiny little window seat and decided to watch the stars come out. And if her stepmother thought she was hiding out of mortification at being caught, well let her. It wasn't all that far from the truth.

A/N: Originally chapters thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen. I feel like I probably should have cut this chapter off sooner, but there just wasn't a good place.

Just as a reminder: the next three weeks are pretty chaotic for me, so future chapters may be a little delayed.

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