It seems that I sort of lost my train of thought after writing the previous chapter. I kinda forgot where I was heading with this chapter and as a result, I went loopy for the day trying to remember. There...a lil something none of y'all knew about me...I freak out when I forget stuff. Mais, c'est bon!

Sarah awoke, bathed, and dressed that morning with some kind of newfound trust in the being who'd kidnapped her. Dryly, she thought that him saving her from potential rape was what had done it. She supposed that no matter what the situation was, no matter what he may have done to her before, anyone in her position would be a little warmer towards Jareth too.

She did have to wonder, though, why he cared enough to have stopped the Fae - Revin, she'd heard hm say. Most of the vibes she'd gotten from Jareth so far had only indicated that he disliked her severely and would rather she didn't speak to him at all. And that only raised the question as to why he had kidnapped her in the first place, if he really hated her that much. To remember, her mind supplied. But why was it so necessary that she remember at all?

The man - Fae - was an enigma, she decided, lacing up the bodice of the pale green dress she had just stepped into. And definitely not one to be trifled with, she thought, remembering his words to her last night. How was it possible for him to be far stronger than Revin when he was so slim? It definitely frightened her to think that anything existed that was stronger than Revin, and to think that she had been kidnapped by and was living with that very being. Just not as much as it would have had he not saved her.

As she stepped out of the room and traipsed through the corridor and up a set of stairs to get to the kitchen (which annoyed her as she hated the changes this castle kept making to the corridors), she found herself almost tripping over the dress she wore. Getting used to these wardrobe changes was going to take some work, and a lot of concentration. She lifted the skirt an inch or two higher as she climbed the stairs.

She had already eaten, finding breakfast was already in her room when she awoke. She was simply making a trip to the kitchen so say good morning to Catty.

"What happened to your face?" the elderly goblin demanded as soon as Sarah stepped through the door.

Sarah reached up to finger her cheek lightly, and winced. The bruise was large and dark, but definitely looked worse than it felt. It blossomed over her cheekbone, one side of the bridge of her nose and around her eye. There was only slight swelling, but so long as she did not accidentally go to rub her eye, she could not feel a thing.

She shook her head at Catty.

"It's nothing," she reassured her. "It doesn't even hurt."

The goblin shuffled closer, frowning.

"Did his majesty do this to you?"

Sarah was startled. If Catty immediately thought that Jareth was the perpetrator, did that perhaps mean that she was used to seeing girls with bruises? The thought sent a shudder through her.

"No," she affirmed. "Of course not."

The goblin still looked suspicious, but said nothing further on the matter. Feeling suddenly awkward, Sarah turned and exited the kitchen. She did not want to ask about the possibility of the king being cruel to girls, yet she could not help but wonder if he would ever hit her. If it was normal for him.

When she thought about it, so far, he'd barely lain a hand on her. Certainly, he had not yet hurt her, though once or twice she was sure he'd wanted to. An enigma, she reminded herself as she aimlessly wandered the castle.

She had absolutely no clue where she was going. Seeing as she didn't know where she wanted to go, she supposed the castle could take her anywhere, possibly even get her more lost than she had been previously. She certainly did not recognise the doors any longer. Vaguely interested, she pushed on a door that read "Hedge Maze II", but it refused to open for her. Put out, she huffed and stormed away from it.

Then something stopped her. It was music, played on what she assumed was a piano. Melodic, romantic. Oddly haunting. And very familiar. It sounded strangely like the melody her music box at home played. Curious as to why she felt that the music was more than that, she followed it to a door labelled "Music Room". Of course. She pushed the door open gently, peeking around it.

Jareth's back was to her as he slowly played the song. He seemed not to have noticed her arrival. She watched him move slightly as he played, and hummed words under his breath. Words she felt that she knew, yet could not remember hearing.

"...makes no sense for you..."

Sarah gasped, unable to help herself. Jareth turned to face her, an oddly soft expression on his face. He simply stared at her for a few moments as she gaped like a fish. She was on the very tip of something, if only she could remember!

"...as the world...falls...down..." Sarah breathed out, finishing the chorus.

The king's eyebrows slanted downwards into a frown when tears filled Sarah's eyes, but she still could not remember! Jareth stood slowly, and immediately Sarah's vision went completely black, and she felt her knees hit the ground as she passed out.

She is beautiful. The dress is big, and tight around the waist. Sugar-spun, made of silvery-white material with gold beading decorating the bodice. The sleeves puff out, as do the skirts. Heavy diamond earrings hang from her lobes and a diamond necklace, elaborate, is strung around her neck. Her hair is pulled up and curled, a gorgeous silver leaf and stem design wrought through her hair.

Sarah feels like a princess.

But a lost one.

Where is she? The walls are round, there are no corners. A diamond chandalier hangs from the ceiling; cushions litter the floor. People are dancing in the crowded area, wearing Venetian masquerade masks and fancy clothing. The women wear too much make-up, and the men frighten her. Though they dance, draping themselves over each other, they stare at her as she moves through the sheer silver drapes hanging around the room.

Sarah stares at them all with fascination, but also fear. She feels she is not meant to be here. All these men and women are much older than her. She is far too young. But at the same time...she's always imagined...or at least, she thinks she's always imagined.

As she glances around, a melodic tune begins to play, as if from nowhere. There are no instruments in this room for it to be coming from. It sends something like pain through her heart. She's supposed to be looking for someone. Maybe whoever it is, is here?

Though the music is soothing and beautiful, the actions and gestures the dancers are making are too wild. Too adult. Despite her discomfort, she must find someone, and she is certain that that person is here. She moves through the crowd. They leer at her and laugh, but part for her to pass through.

Through the jostling crowd, she catches sight of a man. His blonde hair is wild around him, but his face is masked. He holds up the crude plastic to hide himself from her complete view. He is wearing black, with a shining blue jacket and a high-necked white shirt, accompanied with white gloves. She watches him more closely. The man removes the mask slowly, and a hauntingly seductive voice fills the room, again, coming from nowhere.

"There's such a sad love..."

Sarah stares at him in awe. He is who she is looking for. But who on Earth is he? He grins at her, the corner of his mouth curving slightly. His head tips a tiny bit, aknowledging her. His stare is hot and intense, as if trying to see into her very soul, but he is not leering and laughing like the others. He is merely staring.

Sarah's lips part a little in surprise at the intensity of his gaze.

"I'll place the sky within your eyes..."

A dancer moves into her line of vision, and suddenly the man is gone, nowhere to be seen. Panicking for whatever reason, she glances frantically around in search of him. She can feel his hot gaze still on her, following her as she searches, but she cannot see him. She moves up the stairs a little, trying to gain some height to see him.

Something catches her attention. She glances down at a crudely-painted box which pops open. Some kind of bird head rears out of it. She recoils in horror, gasping at the ugliness of whatever it is. It is something from a nightmare she's sure she once had. Two dancers cackle madly at her, but she can barely hear them over the singing.

"In search of new dreams..."

Sarah pushes herself away and shoves through the crowd to escape the madness. People dance madly in front of her, blocking her way, but ultimately do not touch her.

She glances around and is sure she catches sight of his blue jacket. She pushes on.

"As the pain sweeps through..."

She feels something brush against her hair, but ignores it and continues her search for the man. The gorgeous man with the different-coloured eyes. Her eyes rake the room, but she cannot see him!

Suddenly, everyone's attention shoots to her, and she feels the atmosphere change. But she knows that the strange man will not let anything happen to her. Somewhere amongst the throng of lustful people, he is still watching her intently; closely. He will never let anything hurt her. At least not in this place.

"We're falling down..."

The dancers continue, glaring and staring at her as she moves among them. Where has the man gone? One dancer bumps into her hard, and she shoves him away, cringing back from the overbearing aura of his body.

She stops, looking around the room again. Movement in the corner of her eye catches her attention. Feathered fans move aside to reveal the man. There he is! Still staring at her, neither a smile, nor a frown on his face. He's just...watching her.

"We're choosing the path between the stars..."

She gapes in awe at him. He is truly magnificent. His otherwordly beauty is disarming. She cannot even speak...

"I'll leave my love between the stars..."

The man moves away from the women draping themselves over him. He walks straight up to her. Without thinking, she places her hand into his offered one, and her other hand on his shoulder. His arm goes around her waist, his hand pressing into her back so that she is drawn closer to him.

Suddenly, she feels safe in this unfamiliar domain where everyone is laughing at her. They spin gently, walking backwards, dancing in time to the music. She trusts him.

His lips begin to move, and she realizes that he is the one singing. This is his voice. He is the one singing sweet promises to her. Offering her everything...if only she stays here with him forever...

"But I'll be there for you, as the world falls down..."

She blinks, lips parting again. Who is he? Why is she feeling...these things for him? Does he know her? Is that why he is promising her things that only lovers would whisper?

The other dancers press in, and she glances around at them. The man simply holds her in her dancing position as she stares fearfully at the others. They want to hurt her. They do not like her being here. The man says nothing to reassure her, nothing to make her more frightened. The singing continues. The dancers still leer. The two they are focussed on continue to spin slowly.

Suddenly, they are in a circle around the pair, swaying gently to the music. She is getting dizzy, panicky. Something is wrong. She is late...for something. Or perhaps running out of time.

Gasping, she stares up at the man holding her. His head tilts back, his own stare suddenly unsettling as if he is challenging her. Glimpsing a clock off to her right, she panicks more. This is not the person she is looking for. Whoever she is searching for is not here, and he or she never was. This is a trap. He is keeping her to keep her from making it to wherever she's meant to be going.

The clock chimes. She barely has an hour left until thirteen o'clock. There is some significance to the number thirteen, but she cannot put her finger on it. Still spinning with the man, he smirks down at her. Abruptly, she shakes her head and shoves herself away from him, shaking off his hands, but not before she catches the pained expression on his face. She wildly claws her way through the crowd, feeling the man's disbelieving stare on her back.

She has to get out of here. The chiming of the clock is overriding the music. Her heart races, there is blood pounding in her ears. While the man stays where he is, the other dancers follow her, reaching out to grab her; to restrain her and pull her back into the prison she's supposed to be in.

She skids to a stop in front of a large mirror. This is the way out. Through the looking glass. She snatches up a chair and shatters the thing, and suddenly everything is falling down into blackness.

She is falling...

Falling...

Sarah jolted awake so abruptly that she had no time to even breathe properly. In fact, she was quite breathless. Wet tears were slowly falling down her cheek, and she was even hiccupping. Both of her hands were shaking, but there was a strange kind of pressure on one, so she looked down.

A hand encased in black leather was holding hers gently, and she was gripping it back fiercely. Slowly, she began to take in her surroundings. She was on the floor, but her head was cushioned by something hard, and yet soft. Another gloved hand was holding her shoulder, again gently, but also firmly. She followed the arm attached to the hand to a shoulder and to a face.

Her cheeks flamed red as she realized that the king was the one who held her. Her head was in Jareth's lap and it was his hand that she was gripping so tightly. His eyes were full of confused concern, his brows slanted downwards in a frown. His lips seemed oddly tight.

The hand on her shoulder moved to push some strands of hair out of her eyes. She tried to speak, but found that no words would form. And slowly, but surely, her head was beginning to pound painfully, throbbing.

"Sarah..." Jareth whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

"We were...in a ballroom," she managed to whisper, breathless. "I couldn't remember anything. I was trying...to find someone. We danced...and you-you sang to me. That song. But I ran away from you." She sniffed, and his face contorted slightly. "I-I'm so sorry."

She released his hand and pushed herself up onto her knees. He helped her to turn around so that they were kneeling opposite each other on the cold stone floor. She reached out to him. She had obviously hurt him by running away. She did not want to be the cause of pain.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, placing her hands somewhere between his shoulders and pectorals.

An odd kind of sigh escaped him. He took a hold of her wrists, removing them from his person, but held her shoulders to give her the support she needed to remain upright.

"You had other things on your mind at the time," he muttered.

"Why does it hurt so much?" she asked, massaging her temples.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But it's going to hurt like that every time you remember something."

Her head snapped up. "What?"

His fingers moved to her temples, and as soon as the soft leather touched her skin, the pain was completely gone. She met his eyes, trying to thank him silently, and understood what he was saying. Yes, it was going to hurt, but he could make it go away. He could relieve any pain she felt. He was magic, after all.

How was it that he had such power over her?

Neither spoke as the king rose to his feet, pulling her up with him. There were a few seconds of somewhat awkward silence before it was broken.

"Your face," Jareth murmured. "Is it sore?"

"Not really," she shrugged. "As long as I don't touch it."

Quietly, they stared at each other for a few more seconds. She could not tell what he was thinking. His face was hard, but his eyes were soft. He looked like he could very well strangle her, but that he was also feeling somewhat warm towards her right now. She was quite sure that if she did know what he was thinking, it would completely blow her mind. And she had had quite enough headaches in the past two days without adding that to it.

More silence passed until eventually the king seemed to shake himself from whatever stupor he'd thought himself into.

"Come with me," he commanded. "I'll see that my healer has a look at that."

Please review :P I really appreciate feedback and your opinions on things. If you don't like something, I'd still love to hear it, I won't hate on you just because you disagree with me. (THAT totally doesn't look like I'm a review whore...)