Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, although I'd happily snog Jareth within an inch of his life given half a chance. :)
Warning: Mature content. This story includes adult themes, sexual references and consensual violence. If these things offend you, do not read any further.
A/N: I'm really pleased with this chapter and hope y'all will enjoy it. The last chapter had lots of dialogue, this one doesn't. I'm loving the feedback and would love to hear more about what you think will happen. Is Jareth good or evil. Does Sarah ever really submit? I just love hearing what y'all think - I now know why people are addicted to reviews. :))
THE TIES THAT BIND
Ch. 7
Sarah, sighed deeply, feeling exhausted, but oh so relaxed. She must've fallen asleep before going to the club. Not looking at the time, she shrugged lazily. 'Even if I missed the auction, that dream was worth it," she thought, it was so very intense.
Purring softly, she replayed the dream in her mind. Jareth had won her at the auction and beat her challenge. Considering this, her eyebrows knitted, puzzled. Jareth winning the challenge was not remotely possible, in order for that to happen she would have to give him complete control of her and she would never let that happen willingly. No matter how her body might react to him and the sorrow she felt in hurting him all those years ago, she couldn't see herself trusting him in that way…could she?
Sleepily she stretched, the sound of soft talking distracting her. 'Did I leave the TV on when I fell asleep,' she wondered. Rolling over she startled, feeling her body pressed against something firm. Warily cracking one eye she saw that she was pressed against padded leather – a couch that was clearly not her faded, hand-me-down couch from Karen. 'Where the hell am I," she fretted, frantically trying to remember what had happened. As the fog in her brain lifted, the memory became clear, it was him, it was…
"Jareth," she whispered in disbelief.
Hearing his name, Jareth turned from the corner where he was discussing the situation with Siobhan. "I'm here, Sarah," he replied, his voice edged with concern, as she had fainted when he picked her up downstairs and had been out for the last hour.
His clipped accent sent a shiver down Sarah's spine – pleasure or fear she wasn't sure which, and she wasn't game to find out.
Sitting bolt upright, her emerald eyes wide in shock, she squeaked, "You!" Kicking her legs, she pushed against the couch, launching herself over the arm and onto the floor. Without hesitation, she scrabbled to her feet and ran for the door, thankful it was open as she threw herself down the hallway and pounded down the stairs, part of her surprised that she could run as well as she was in the heeled boots she was wearing.
Stunned, Jareth and Siobhan watched Sarah fling herself from the couch and out the door. Their puzzled hesitation giving her a head start as she fled.
"Find her," Jareth hissed at Siobhan, before bolting for the door, his long stride helping him reach the first floor quickly. Downstairs he cursed darkly, the crowd had grown significantly and he couldn't see her through the mass of bodies and the dim light. He growled to himself. Damn her. Why the hell was she running from him again.
Pushing his way into the room, Jareth scanned the crowd. He needed to find her before she left the club. He had to explain things to her. How this girl could be both enchanting and blindingly irritating was beyond him. He would have to put an end to that, and soon.
Seeing a flash of white in the crowd he took off, a subtle flick of his wrist encouraging people to move out of his way. Using magic seemed to be cheating, but he was not going to let her get away this time.
He saw her making a break for the exit, dodging several people who attempted to speak with her. Damn, he wouldn't be able to get there in time.
Gasping for air, Sarah saw that she was nearly at the door. She wasn't sure where she was going, but she was determined to escape him. With a yelped apology she dodged another club member, peeking over her shoulder to see Jareth rapidly catching up. She whimpered, willing her legs to go faster as she belted the last few feet toward the door. The next thing she knew, she hit something hard. With a strangled scream she looked up, having run headlong into Rastas, who wrapped her in a hug.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his usual jovial face lined with concern and an undercurrent of protectiveness.
Sarah struggled to break free of him, looking behind her as Jareth neared. "Please...," she wailed, twisting free of Rasta's hands and hurtling herself toward the door. As she reached the entry hall, her heel hit a puddle from the rain and slid out from under her, her ankle making a sickening crunch as she landed. Sarah skidded toward the door, her hip taking the brunt of the fall as she screamed, "Fuck!" In an act of self-preservation, she curled into a ball as she slid, trying to protect her ankle from further damage, her shoulders and neck slamming into the heavy steel door hard enough to jar it in the frame.
Panting she shook her head to clear it, her hands coming up to grip the sides of her head as if pressing her temples would make the horrible clanging stop.
Strong hands reached down, hauling her to a standing position, making her cry out as she put weight on her ankle and her head throbbed.
"That was incredibly silly and uncalled for, Sarah," Jareth snarled, glaring at her as his irritation rose to the surface. "As for your unladylike outburst just now, we will call that 'one' and deal with it later this weekend."
"No. No, there is no weekend, there is nothing," she gasped, trying desperately to pull away from him, despite the ache in her head and ankle. "This can't be happening."
"Look at me, Sarah," he demanded. Sarah struggled, refusing to look at him. Growing impatient with her fighting him, Jareth grabbed her chin tightly in his hand, forcing her to look at him. She whimpered as he glared coldly at her. "Disobeying me is 'two', Sarah. Don't try for three. You won't like the consequences. This is happening and you will uphold the contract."
Reaching up, he plucked a length of purple silk rope from the display on the wall and roughly grabbed her wrists, before securing them behind her. As she opened her mouth to protest, his steely eyes pinned her in place, his tone icy, "Not one word until you are back upstairs. Defy me on this and the consequences will be most unpleasant. I will not warn you again."
At this, Sarah snapped her jaw shut, nodding mutely, all the while her mind raced. This was really happening and he was here. 'Oh God, help me. I did give him control,' she sobbed inwardly.
Jareth unceremoniously picked her up. Tossing her over his shoulder he carried her bodily back through the club. Seeing the look of concern Rastas' face as they passed him, she broke down and cried for the second time that night.
When they reached the upstairs lounge, he tossed her on the couch, growling one word, "Stay."
Turning to Max, who had followed them into the room. "Ice, please, and bring supper to us here. Brandy as well. Then ask your Mistress to join us at her earliest opportunity."
With a silent tilt of his head, Max left the room. It was all Sarah could do not to whimper, as she found herself alone with the Goblin King.
Jareth ran a gloved hand through his hair as he paused, working to control his frustration and irritation. This was not working out the way he had hoped, but he was not going to let that stop him. She needed him and deep down she knew it, he just had to get her to accept it and stop fighting herself…and him.
Drawing the footstool near the couch, he looked at her. Even panting, with her hair in disarray, she was stunning. Lifting her partially, he untied her hands, his fingers gently rubbing the indentations left by the rope. Satisfied that her hands were fine, he turned his attention to her ankle. Ever so gently he lifted her foot into his lap, removing the boot as she moaned from the pain, eyes shut tight.
"Shhh. Let me look at it," he soothed. Delicately his fingers moved over her ankle, pressing lightly as he examined the damage. "You are remarkably lucky that you didn't do any real harm." She sniffed in reply. "It will be sore tomorrow, but it will heal quickly," he continued.
Sitting back on the stool, Jareth surveyed her, his mismatched eyes glinting sharply in the lamplight. "This running from me business is getting quite tiresome, precious. I had thought we were past that by now."
"Well you thought wrong, didn't you," Sarah retorted angrily.
Lips pursed, Jareth glared sternly at her. "Sarah. I will overlook your disrespect this once, but from here on, you will address me with respect or the consequences I mentioned earlier, will look like a picnic compared to what will happen. Am I making myself clear?"
Frowning, she felt a wave of fear wash over her, quelling it by snapping at him, "Abundantly."
How could this night get any worse, she wondered.
Max returned pushing a cart laden with plates, an ice bucket and a brandy decanter. Without speaking to them, he poured a glass of brandy, offering it to Jareth who accepted the crystal glass, dismissing Max with a brief nod. Siobhan returned shortly after, settling herself in a leather wingback chair, eying Sarah with dismay.
Without acknowledging Siobhan, Jareth began to pace the room, idly sipping his drink with the air of one who was deep in thought. Nodding thoughtfully as if making a decision, he addressed Sarah, "When was the last time you ate?"
Sarah was surprised at the question, having expected that he would yell at her, rage at her or even hit her, not ask about whether she had eaten. Sadly, being the end of the pay period, money was tight and she hadn't had anything more than instant coffee and ramen noodles for the last few days – the last cup of coffee at 9am that morning.
"Um…I never eat before coming to the club, otherwise I feel sick," she replied, watching him carefully as he moved.
Jareth frowned at her, fighting the irritation that threatened to return. "While that is a wise decision, you failed to answer my question, which is technically being disobedient. Do not make me repeat myself, Sarah."
Sarah's stomach gave a loud growl at that moment, her face burning hot as she blushed profusely. "Does that answer your question?" she asked.
With a low chuckle Jareth replied, "While it tells me much, it doesn't answer the question. Now obey me and answer."
"The last time I actually ate anything was Wednesday evening, I had some ramen noodles and tinned tuna. Since then I've had several cups of coffee and some tea. Happy?" she snapped. Seeing the cold look he gave her and hearing Siobhan's gasp, her eyes flew wide and she clapped a hand over her mouth.
"No, actually that does not please me in any way. I prefer that my possessions are taken care of. As to your lack of impulse control, we will count that as three and begin dealing with that little issue tomorrow."
"I am not your possession," Sarah hissed, her eyes flashing with anger. "I do not belong to you, now or ever."
"Ah, my precious thing, that is where you are mistaken," Jareth drawled sikily. "We have a contract, or have you forgotten already?"
"It doesn't mean anything. There is not a thing stopping me from walking out that door. The worst that can happen is that the club has to return your money," Sarah retorted, hands balling into fists at her side.
Siobhan shook her head sadly, listening to the exchange. "Actually Sarah, while you can are always free to leave, if you do not honor the contract, you will not be allowed back to the club again."
Sarah's felt tears sting her eyes. The thought of losing her friends here causing her chest to ache. Without the support of Siobhan and Rastas over the last year, she didn't know where she would be. Sniffing, she raised her head defiantly, deciding she could live without the club if she had to.
"Fine. The contract isn't worth the paper it is written on. No court in the land would uphold the terms written there. It isn't binding," she declared, hoping she looked more confident than she felt.
With a wicked grin, Jareth faced Sarah. The look in his eyes making her tremble, her mind screaming in panic as her breath caught in her throat.
"While it may not be binding in your land, it would be considered a binding contract in mine," he sneered, chuckling as Sarah blanched. "You have a choice, pet…you can choose to honor the contract willingly in your land, or honor it unwillingly in mine. Either way, you will honor the contract. And let me tell you, in my land, failure to honor a contract extends the terms of the contract."
As if listening to someone else speaking from a long distance away, Sarah heard her voice croak out, "How long."
"Indefinitely," came the grim reply.
