A Twisting Heart And Mind

by FangamerBowiextreme

While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally alowed to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

10. Hope And Its Other Like-Forms (Part 2)

Chapter 9, Hope And Its Other Like-Forms : Continued.

---

Jareth left the room much too abruptly, leaving Sarah stranded and standing awkwardly next to yet another strange man; except this time, instead of being welcomed with cheery smiles, she was shunned by the cold distaste of his glare. Oh how that irked her. She turned to face Roldan, and used the small -momentarily- comfortable silence to better examine him.

His brow was thick and sharply chiseled, heightening the effect of his deep green eyes. His nose was long and sharp as a blade, and his lips were full and round, accenting high cheekbones and a square jaw. It was a much different set of features from that of Jareth and his brother. With that said, he was handsome, in a rugged sort of way. She didn't get to ponder his physical attributes much further however, as the way his mouth twisted in a scowl soon occupied all of her attention. She put on a smile and thrust out a hand to the grumpy looking Roldan.

"Well, since Jareth has failed to introduce us - I'm Sarah, it's a pleasure to meet you." She said, with that beaming little smile of hers, and waited for him to accept her shake.

The intensity in Roldan's stare turned from judgment to conviction, and he actually snarled his lip at her as he peered down from over the tip of his nose.

"Your manners are deplorable." He said.

-What? Sarah blinked dumbly as her hand slowly lowered back to her side. Um, ok. She still had a trace of her smile, which was quickly fading into a scowl. Excuse me, Asshole?!

"Excuse me?" She asked, raising her brow in offended aghast. That was quite different from the anticipated "My name is Roldan, it's a pleasure to meet you".

"And your state of dress is abhorring." He added. Sarah's caught-off-guard expression sharpened into something nasty then. Who the hell does this guy think he is? "You should be ashamed for the way you've conducted yourself just now." Ohhhhh, fuck this guy. She was not about to let herself be patronized by Jareth's steward. She ground her teeth as she tried to contain herself. Jareth had a knack for plucking at her nerves, but this guy was soon to snap them completely. Was there a reason he was being such a prick? What did she ever do to him?

"And who the Hell are you, exactly? How dare you speak to me so disrespectfully!" She exclaimed, fisting her hands and keeping them locked at her sides. Were servants allowed to talk to her like that? Roldan huffed through his nose and looked away.

"I find it hard to disrespect someone who warrants no respect to begin with." He said. Sarah's eyes were burning with the restraint of her freak out. This guy was supposed to be a servant! How could he speak to her like that? Who the fuck was he to talk about manners and respect and then speak to her so rudely!? Ughhh. Did he talk to Jareth this way? Highly unlikely.

"You have some audacity! You don't even know me! What the Hell is you're problem?! What did I ever do to you!?" She was grinding her foot into the floor at this point and fuming at the ears no doubt. Was Jareth just going to allow him to speak this way to her? What would happen if she told on him? Ugh, guess the butler didn't fall far from the king.

He turned back to face her, examining her face thoroughly before responding. His eyes narrowed, but it didn't come close to the crease in hers. She knew that if he uttered one more insult, she'd lose it. Go on, I dare you. I effing dare you.

"My apologies Miss." He suddenly said, breaking through the storm of Sarah's frustration. Her expression twitched, but remained solid. "But it is my duty to point out facts that would otherwise be ignored. I can see that you are upset. It was not my intention to offend you." He said, surprisingly sincere, something which Sarah was unable to discern.

Bullshit! Sarah's fire and brimstone glare refused to cease. She took his sincerity as blatant mockery, and refused to step down for even a moment. Seriously? Who did this Fuck think he was? She felt like stomping her foot and storming off to her room. If he were Jareth, she probably would have started clawing at him. At least Jareth was cheeky in his insults, this guy was just an ass. Great, now I have two condescending, self-righteous, egotistical, ass-hats to deal with. Ugh! She muttered to herself, cursing every nasty word she could think of over and over in her head.

"You're something else. It's bad enough I have to deal with Jareth, I don't need this bullshit from you!"

Roldan rose his brow at her, taking in her display for all it was worth. How in the world could this creature be in line for the throne? How in the world could Jareth possibly put up with this? Let alone want to? What in the Underground was going on here? He couldn't understand it, and wanted nothing more than to deposit the girl so he could find and press Jareth on the issue. What had happened in the week he'd been gone? Jareth had a lot of explaining to do.

"Your language is disgusting." He responded with, causing Sarah to fume even more.

"Your blatant disrespect for your superiors is disgusting! Jareth allows you to speak this way?"

"He allows you to, apparently." He retorted. Sarah didn't know what to do. She was so ungodly angry. She didn't think she'd ever been this angry with someone who wasn't Jareth. She wanted to roar at him. As far as first impressions went, this sucked.

"Is there a reason why you're being such a dick?" She asked. Roldan took in a long breath, and it was just then that she realized how well he was retaining the true extent of his irritation.

"I'm just trying to understand the reason why you're here." He answered, with all kinds of prevalent undertone.

"I'm here because Jareth is an evil manipulate deviant. Glad to see I'm not the only one who finds a problem with this." She said, and crossed her arms over her chest like a two-year-old. The intensity in their stares started to dim a bit, as they seemed to acknowledge the root of their irritation with one another as one in the same -ultimately Jareth. It was more than clear that Roldan did not approve of Sarah being here. Maybe they could find some common ground in that, because Sarah didn't approve of her being their either.

"Yes, a lot has happened in the time I've been away. I suppose this goes to show just how helpful my oversight on him is." He said. Sarah's shoulder's eased just a bit, sensing the end of their confrontation. The tension in his voice was gone now as well. Her slightly clearer head got her to thinking, Hm. Maybe he was just stating facts.. How could someone be so indignant and indifferent at the same time? Jareth isn't even that good at controlling himself.

"Apparently." Was all she answered with, still stuck on being coarse with him.

"Are you finished venting?" He asked. Sarah glared, his statement drawing immediate parallels to Jareth. She didn't say anything, but pursed her lips at him. "Good. Now, come." He said, and turned on his heel. Sarah stomped in her place. There was no way she was taking orders from this guy.

"Where exactly are we going?" She asked.

"I am to take you back to your room until His Majesty sees fit to release you."

"No."

Roldan paused in his step, and turned around, slowly.

"What?" There was something unbelievable in his voice, something that turned her one simple word, into the most sacred taboo. No? Did she just say No? Sarah stood her ground. She was not about to let herself be dragged to time-out.

"I'm not going anywhere with you." She stated, and watched the recalculation as it played out across Roldan's face. It was as if he didn't understand, and hadn't for a single moment expected, her response. He looked... put off.

"I am under express orders to escort you back to your chambers." He iterated.

"And what if I don't want to go back to my room?" Sarah countered, knowing very well that she'd had this same exact argument with Jareth just a few days ago. Well screw Jareth! Jareth isn't here! And if he expects me to be bossed around by this guy, then he's got another thing coming! Roldan continued to grow more and more agitated, as if he had no idea how to handle the situation. It was then that she realized that he probably wasn't used to people refusing him, or more importantly, Jareth. Hummmph.

"What you want is of no consequence. The King has ordered you to return to your room, and so you will."

"And at what point in time did he tell you that?" She asked. She waited for some retort, but he remained silent. "If Jareth wants me to go back to my room he could have very well asked me himself. I don't need his lackey pushing me around." She bit out. Roldan's shoulders tensed and he took a step towards her.

"And as Queen, I'm saying no."

"The King's word is absolute. And besides, you aren't Queen yet, girl." Sarah crinkled her nose at him.

"I'm still not going."

"You can come with me, or I can take you there. The choice is yours." He huffed. She had to give him props, Jareth would have thrown her to the ground by this point.

Sarah bit the inside of her cheek as she initiated a full on standoff with a supposed servant. Dealing with Jareth's orders was a given, but no one said anything about having to listen to his servants too. Wasn't she supposed to be Queen? Didn't that give her authority over this kind of stuff?

"Jareth considers me his Queen, and as Queen, don't I have authority over the help? If I say something, aren't you supposed to listen?" She asked, having never thought she would have played Jareth as a card for her defense. Normally, she wouldn't play the bitchy Queen card either, but she tried being friendly with him. No, he started this, and he was going to deal with it.

"I serve the King, not the Queen." He said and reached out to take hold of her arm, apparently tired, and ready to end this debate. Sarah jumped back and whipped her arm away from him.

"Don't you touch me!" She exclaimed. Roldan's hand held itself suspended in midair, and his fingers started to curl with frustration. He hadn't even touched her. What a wild little ingrate this woman was! What was Jareth thinking? How was it he allowed her to act this way? How was it he hadn't broken every bone in her body? He felt an almost overwhelming urge to discipline her himself, but as he examined the fire in her eyes, he realized fighting her would only end up in foul repercussions for himself. He lowered his hand and sighed.

"Let me put it this way. I am under orders to bring you back to your room. If I should fail to do this, it would be equal to saying I have defied His Majesty's orders. Which can lead to a great number of negative outcomes for myself. In other words, your actions create consequences for others, and I do not wish to be reprimanded over something so trivial. So please, would you just concede and come with me?" He asked, and let his brow sag with exasperation. He didn't understand what they were even fighting about. Sarah puffed up her chest and turned to step by him.

"Hm, perhaps there's hope for the both of you." She said, and stalked her way towards the door.

---

Jareth stopped dead in his tracks. Davion's question hit him with an unexpected flare of both panic and anger, causing him to falter in his step. His back was still to him however, and so he was able to brush off the indiscretion before his brother had the chance to get a good look at him.

"You certainly know how to start a conversation." Jareth answered and paced a little closer. Davion was smiling now, while Jareth was busy trying to glare at the floor.

"I thought I might skip all the pleasantries and simply get to the point of all this."

"What do you want, Davion?" Jareth asked.

"Well, initially, all I wanted was to meet your darling new bride. -And what a darling she is by the way, remind me later to ask you why you've dressed her as an adolescent boy- But now, I feel it's only right that I should know what exactly is going on between you two. After all, this is my kingdom as well." He responded. Jareth tried to remain indifferent to Davion's words, but both knew where this conversation was soon to end up. This was bad. He cursed himself under his breath, he should have never left her alone.

"I'm afraid I don't understand." Jareth said, playing the fool. Davion rolled his eyes.

"Please, let's not play this game. She told me you had her run the Labyrinth." Jareth paused, and gripped the back of a nearby chair as he brought his gaze level with Davion's. He certainly wasn't wasting any time. And as their eyes met, Jareth realized he may be plunging a dagger into his brother's chest within the next few minutes.

"Did she now? It seems I have yet another reason why I must educate my darling new bride on how to keep her mouth shut." He snarled. This was the very reason Sarah needed etiquette training. He couldn't care less about whether she knew her soup from her dessert spoon. What she needed to learn was that Fae communicated with more than just words, and that most verbal conversation was irrelevant to the actual conversation. Little did Sarah know, her encounter with Davion was a lot more serious than she probably realized. Davion leaned back, resting his arms over his chest as he peered mischievously at his older brother.

"I wouldn't worry too much. Such knowledge would only register as peculiar to others." He said.

"And to you?"

"You're not the only heir to the Goblin Throne, Jareth. I suspected it when I realized she was mortal, and I knew what it meant the moment she said she'd won. Why didn't you tell me you were planning this?" He asked. Jareth's demeanor darkened along with the fading sky in the background. This was not a topic he should be discussing with anyone, let alone the one person who stood in the same exact position of gain as he.

"Do you really need to ask that question?" Jareth asked. Davion shrugged.

"I suppose not. It doesn't matter after all. What matters, is that that hellion you call a fiancé holds power over the Labyrinth. And instead of killing her, you're ...marrying her?"

"Cleverly deduced." Jareth said, mockingly and full of distaste. Davion sighed.

"I don't understand you, Jareth. You've obviously been planning this out quite extensively, or else it wouldn't have worked. And I've never known you to be the sharing type."

"And?" Jareth snapped. Davion glared at Jareth's interruption. He was being so rude today.

"And you haven't killed her. You've pushed pause on the grand finale, why?"

"Why are you so interested? I should have you executed for what little knowledge you have now. Why would I give you more?" Jareth warned. Davion would have taken heed of Jareth's threat, if it wasn't for the fact that he knew Jareth would never truly harm him. Discipline him for making a move on his fiancé? Maybe. But, nothing that wouldn't heal.

"Because I like causing trouble." Davion answered, with that sweet and cheeky smile of his.

"Yes...speaking of trouble. I know what you were trying to do with Sarah. She doesn't know the implications of her actions, so any satisfaction you may have gotten is irrelevant. I have enough to deal with having Liana worm her way about, I don't need your mischief adding to that fire."

"Oh, come now. I think she was rather taken with me...and who is Liana?" Davion asked.

"Oh, that's what the Labyrinth is calling itself now." Jareth informed.

"I see..." Davion was about to let his curiosity distract him, but deterred himself when he realized Jareth was purposefully trying to mislead him. "But, before we go on a tangent, perhaps you would be so kind as to answer my original question?" He asked.

"It'd be pointless to go through the trouble of marrying someone whom I intended to kill, now wouldn't it?" Jareth asked, rhetorically. Davion started tapping a contemplative finger against his lips, lips that were slowly curling into a delicious sneer of victory.

"Yes, that would be rather pointless..." His voice trailed off as he gathered his thoughts. "So, you're marrying a human, a rash and emotional teenager at that, who happens to have the one thing that's been plaguing your rulership since your crowning? You're going through all this effort to conform her, embarrassing yourself shamelessly along the way. You set all this up, knowingly put yourself in this position, and yet you won't do the easy thing and take it-"

"There is more than one way to secure the hold from her." Jareth interjected. Davion quirked an eyebrow.

"Ah, hence the reason you've kept her so ignorant then? The less she know? -A course of action that should be reevaluated, I might add- You think you can maneuver her into giving it to you? Well, you were always one for a good challenge." He said, observing all the uncomfortable shifting around Jareth was trying to hide. "But...I don't think that's really it, is it?" He asked. Jareth looked up then, anticipating his next comment. "Oh, Jareth. You're putting yourself through so much trouble. You wouldn't happen to somehow love this girl, would you? Now that would be foolish." He asked, and cracked a small laugh along with it. Jareth copied his brother's posture, trying hard to remain relaxed and composed.

"She's really not as bad as she seems...she can be quite charming at times...when she's not behaving like a petulant child. Not to mention that I haven't yet started educating her on the outside world." He said, almost reluctantly, as if he had been forced to justify himself. Davion kicked his legs out as he leaned further back to sit on the edge of the desk.

"And that petulance wouldn't happen to be the result of her ill-consent in all this, would it?" He asked, and put a hand up at the grim look on Jareth's face. "Relax, she was smart enough not to reveal that much. But, it does beg the question, if you were planning on having it submitted, why didn't you choose someone just a bit more willing?"

"Because my choice of Sarah was not made based on whether or not she would be willing."

"Ah, so you do love her then. I see no other reason why you would subject the both of you to all of this, so don't bother trying to cover it up." He said, and hopped down from the desk. Jareth didn't say anything, still wary of his brother's true intentions, and watched as he walked up and patted Jareth on the chest. "I congratulate you on your tragedy, brother. As that is the only way this will end. In the mean time, I hope love does not prove to be as cumbersome as I hear it is." He said. Jareth rose an eyebrow at his brother, and tried hard not to crack a sarcastic smirk.

"If love is cumbersome, I am sure to be crushed by it before the week is through." Jareth said, with both amusement and exasperation.

"Hmm, no. I have a feeling you'll push her just as hard as she pushes you, and spend the rest of your lives in a beautifully painful deadlock. One of which I can't wait to put myself in the middle of. You'll be the unstoppable force to her immovable object." Davion said, and stepped away. Jareth was starting to ease up with Davion's humor, but knew better than to let his guard down. There was still something else hanging on the end of his tongue, something he was waiting to say.

"Thank you, for the encouragement." Jareth responded.

"Oh, but it won't all be bad. I'm sure that fiery little spirit of hers has its perks...I imagine she is quite -entertaining. She sure smells it. So ripe, she's practically fermenting. Perhaps one day she'll take me as a mate. Imagine all the fun we could have then. Like in the good old days." The sneer on Davion's face sharpened as he called attention to what he thought was perhaps the most riotous aspect of his encounter with Sarah. She had absolutely no idea what she was doing to him, none at all. Her pheromones were running wild, showing no control nor care for herself. It was simply marvelous. She was sure to draw attention at court. He couldn't wait for their engagement party.

"Don't get too excited, brother. You know she didn't know what she was doing. And you would do well not to take advantage of her ignorance again."

"Because you're one to talk." Davion cheered. To him, this conversation was really quite funny, mostly because it was so serious to Jareth. And he wanted to see just how far it could be pushed. "You really haven't bothered to tell her anything? How in the world do you expect her to grasp it all in time for the celebration? You've been keeping her so under thumb...what do you think will happen once she realizes the level of freedom she has? Once she knows just how little control you truly have over her..."

"I will tell her as much as she can handle. She isn't ready to know of court life, yet. But even so, as her husband my word is still final... Why are you so concerned?" Jareth asked.

"Honestly? I'm not. I just find this whole situation a little hysterical." He said, with a wave of the hand. Jareth's scowl turned into a pout. There was nothing funny about what was going on between he and Sarah. "I've been here five minutes and already I can see just how ludicrous and pointless this all is. Maybe I should just kill her... Get it all over with."

The aura surrounding Jareth turned from cautious to deadly in an instant. It was bad enough having to talk about him killing her, a thought which sickened him each time it arose, but to hear the threat from another? His demeanor turned black and violent, but he held back, knowing what might happen should he let his impulses take over. This was his brother after all, if that meant anything. It didn't. Davion saw this reaction, and rose a brow as he watched it slowly retract back into itself. He stiffened a bit, not quite expecting such a dramatic change in mood from him. Well, now...I must have struck a nerve. He thought.

"You would dare voice such a threat? To me of all people? Brother or not I am still your King. If you ever lay a hand on her-" Jareth started to rant, but Davion was quick to lurch into action.

"Relax! Relax! Brother, I wasn't serious." Davion exclaimed, jumping down from his seat after fully realizing just how enraged Jareth was right now. He knew from past experience that Jareth's anger was not something you wanted directed at yourself. While he enjoyed poking at his older brother, he understood the limits. And apparently, this was one of them. "You really think I would do so? What would I possibly gain from it? Power over the Labyrinth? That is your aspiration, not mine." He started, keeping a close eye on Jareth's mannerisms. He hadn't backed down any. And the black pool of his stare only hardened. "Sure, holding the Labyrinth would grant me great power, but with it comes an even greater responsibility. You think I want to spend my time watching over that maze, maintaining the balance? Why would I want that? You do that well enough as it is." The dangerous aura surrounding Jareth didn't lessen, but it didn't grow either.

"Just your knowledge of this makes you a threat. You shouldn't have come here, Davion. Family or not, I know better than to trust you. Perhaps it is because we are family." Jareth rumbled. Davion eased just a bit. It was good that he was talking. If Jareth was truly set, he would have acted first and spoken of it after.

"I'm a loose end then, eh?"

"Not to mention the only other heir to the throne."

"Jareth, come now. You really think it has been my life long intention to usurp your throne? I thought you would have gotten it by now that I really couldn't care less. As devious as I admit I am, I am not nearly as devious as you can be. I may like to play games and cause trouble but..." He said, and paused to take a breath. "No, I am a king in my own sense. I rule over a land. I have power, prestige, pedigree, I have everything without even a hint of the responsibility. Tell me, have I ever been one to deny the easiest path? And besides, I'm sure you've got more booby-traps placed around that girl than I have scattered throughout my entire ward. It'd be sheer stupidity to even attempt something of ill-intent." The more logic he rambled, the more Jareth seemed to listen. In this, extremely rare instance, Davion was being completely honest. While it was true that he was the only other Fae to know of the agreement between Jareth and the Labyrinth, he hadn't the slightest desire to do anything about it. He was perfectly comfortable being the playboy that he was.

There was a long pause as each digested Davion's speech. He looked up after a while, and spied Jareth looking bleak and contemplative. There seemed to be more going on than so far admitted.

"When father passed on... We did well to secure the Labyrinth's cooperation. I kept your secret then. Why ever would I risk it now? If I wanted the Labyrinth, I would have done what you are attempting long ago. I had planned this conversation to be amusing, but it would seem things have taken a turn towards the opposite." Davion piped, hoping to breakthrough Jareth's brooding. After a moment, Jareth sighed, and brought a hand to his forehead.

"There is nothing amusing about trying to maneuver Sarah into anything." He muttered, almost under his breath.

---

Sarah walked behind Roldan with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at the back of his head. They were passing through the great hall, and instinctively Sarah turned in the direction of the hall that lead towards her room. She stopped however, after watching Roldan turn and head in the opposite direction.

"Um, where are you going?" She asked. Roldan paused, and glanced back.

"The Queen's chambers, Madam." He answered. Sarah drew her brow, and shook her head.

"My room is down this hall." She said, and pointed in said direction. Curiously, Roldan's brow narrowed as well, and he cautiously stepped towards her.

"My apologies, I am unfamiliar with this. If you would please, lead on." He said, and gestured for her to proceed him. She turned, and took a step.

"Jareth didn't tell you where my room was?" She asked, and could practically feel the annoyance radiating from the man quietly stalking behind her.

"I assumed it was somewhere else. My mistake." He answered. Sarah pursed her lips as she thought this over. (Hmm...) but couldn't come up with any solid conclusions.

Roldan grew more and more apprehensive the further he and Sarah ventured down the hall. He knew the direction in which this hall lead, and didn't want to believe this was where she was leading him. Why would Jareth put her there? It made no sense.

Sarah meanwhile, was enjoying in the new silence, using it to snuff out her previous irritation. Maybe we just got off on the wrong foot...maybe things don't have to be so harsh. She told herself, wondering if perhaps she should try to start things over with Roldan. Maybe, in time, she could get him to sympathize with her or something, gain an ally and yet another distraction from Jareth. Just thinking this put a small skip in her step.

They met their destination within a few minutes. She paused in front of the door leading to her room, but upon reaching out for the handle, was rudely cut off by Roldan -who insisted on opening the door for her. She gave him a nod and crossed the threshold. She wasn't sure what would happen now, but was surprised all the same when Roldan shut the door behind him, enclosing them both in the room. She turned to face him, expectantly.

"Shall I fetch your hand-maidens, so they may dress you for supper?" He asked. Sarah stared at him, blankly.

"My what?" She asked.

"Your maidens? Ladies in waiting? Servants?" He clarified, and grew perplexed when her brow twisted uncomfortably.

"I don't have any servants." She said, and couldn't help but sound awkward and out of place. Was she supposed to have servants? If so, why not? Based on the strange look she was getting from Roldan, she wasn't the only one who thought things seemed a bit off.

"I see..." He murmured, lost in some thought. Sarah teetered on her heel.

"And what do you mean, dress me for supper?" She asked.

"Peasant clothing is not suitable attire for a Queen, especially when presenting herself for dinner." He explained. Sarah drew her eyes on him. It seemed Roldan knew even less about Sarah's situation than she did.

"I don't really care what's suitable. I wear what I want." She affirmed.

"His Majesty-"

"It isn't Jareth's decision." She snapped. "I dress how I like, and Jareth hasn't said a word otherwise." She said, which was true. From the first day as his captive, he allowed her to choose her own clothing and hadn't said anything of forcing her to wear a certain attire. She wondered though, if she was getting a glimpse of an un-Jareth-biased based Fae culture through Roldan. Then again, he seemed to be a real tight ass. Maybe he was just being picky. Either way, she was not changing her clothes.

"He allows you to present yourself in rags?" He asked.

"He doesn't allow me anything. I have rights. And, I don't see what it matters anyway, it's not like it's some grand event. Dinner is always served in here." She said, and watched as Roldan's gaze narrowed and began roaming about the room.

"You eat in here? Together?" He asked. Sarah started to grow uncomfortable with the perplexity in his voice.

"Um, yes. Is that odd?" She asked. Roldan's brow rose as he shook his head.

"You are odd." He said. Sarah pouted when he gave a small exasperated laugh. What is so funny? "You are to stay in here until His Majesty calls for you." He said, and turned to leave. Sarah's pout lowered into a scowl.

"Hey. Before you leave, let me tell you something that I hope you acknowledge more than Jareth does." She snapped. He turned back just as his hand touched the handle of the door. "I don't respond well to orders. So, if you want us to get along, I suggest you start showing off some of your own manners and ASK when you want me to do something." She lectured, and received a very, very high arch of an eyebrow in response. Roldan rolled his eyes, trying hopelessly to fathom what on Earth Jareth saw in this spiteful little creature.

"My Lady, would you please wait here until His Majesty sends word?" He asked.

"Yes, I will, thank you for asking. Is it really so hard for you people to grasp such a simple concept?" She asked, shaking her head, and then turned and viciously stomped away.

---

"Are you sure I can't stay for dinner?" Davion asked, hopefully. The tone of their conversation had lightened considerably over the past few minutes. Jareth seemed more at ease with himself, as Davion hoped he was no longer suspicious of him trying to murder his wife. Though, he understood every ounce of Jareth's caution. Davion was a threat, perhaps the greatest threat to Jareth retrieving power from the girl. And if Jareth truly had no intention of killing her, then all Davion had to do was step up to the plate.

But that was all so serious. And Davion didn't do serious. He was content enough with causing mischief between them as a couple, and wasn't concerned with all this scheming. But, after taking some time to consider everything, he may be able to find a way to use this as a part of his devilry...

"No, you may not." Jareth answered, sternly. Davion pouted, but Jareth's glare only intensified.

"You know, that look would have worked on Sarah." Davion commented.

"I know, hence why you are not allowed anywhere near her until further notice."

"Do you think she'll choose me? I hope she does. She is very beautiful, I will give her that."

Jareth couldn't help but crack a small smile of pride.

"I can't say, but if so, it won't be for quite some time. There are still rules." Davion rolled his eyes.

"Ah, but no time at all! You know how humans are. They reproduce like rabbits!" Davion's smile was wide, and full of excitement for the future. Jareth was sitting now, and kept his head lowered as he watched his brother's display. "I can't believe you haven't had her yet. She's so ripe! She's begging for it! How in the world do you endure it?"

Davion began to ramble, but Jareth wasn't listening anymore, and was slowly drifting off in his own thoughts.

Jareth's inner-self grumbled. This would be the most loathsome of discussions he would have to endure with Sarah in the near future. And he knew she wasn't nearly ready for it. Where should he start? Should he bother at all? Or just lay it all out when the time came? As much as he accepted this aspect of his society, he couldn't help but feel anxious and reluctant about it. And this was most likely because he understood the human notion of monogamy. It was no secret that the core of Jareth's personality was possessive, and he would undoubtedly possess every part of her. She would always be considered his; but possession and jealousy were two different things. There was no place in the Fae court for jealously. It simply didn't work. He knew this, but couldn't fight the feeling of discomfort that churned in the pit of his stomach at the thought of Sarah bedding another. And perhaps this feeling arose not from the fact that it was with someone other than him, but from the fact that he would have no say in the matter. Of course, it was more complicated than that; but Davion was right in his concern over how she would react after learning her true place in society. While he did have say over her in most things...there were certain, arguably the most important...decisions that were hers and only hers to make. Oh how he rued the day she found out, and could only pray she wouldn't use it as a weapon of spite against him. He groaned to himself, bringing more personal thoughts of Sarah to mind, and realizing it'd been quite some time since he'd left her in the pool room. No doubt she and Roldan were off to a brilliant start... Great.

He felt very, very tired all of the sudden.

"Say...aside from everything else, how does Liana feel about all this?" Davion asked, plucking Jareth from his brooding.

"I'm not sure yet." Jareth mumbled.

"You're not sure? What do you mean, you're not sure? Is she trying to stop you, or not?" He asked. Jareth shifted, and stood from his seat.

"I don't know. Whatever side she's on, she's being quite irritating about it..." Jareth paused, not sure if he really wanted to say any more, but then realized that he'd told Davion just about everything that he didn't already know, so there wasn't much point in holding back. And on a side note, it actually felt -good- to talk to someone about his worries. "She's been tampering with Sarah's emotions...and I can't understand the reason why." Davion quirked an eyebrow, curious and just as lost on that thought as Jareth.

"That is troublesome..."

"I think it's time you were off." Jareth stated, just now deciding that it was time this conversation ended. Davion knew too much, but it was too late now. There was no way Jareth would be foolish enough to ever trust his brother, but maybe they could somehow work together in this... But, regardless of lingering thoughts of Davion, all Jareth could really think about was Sarah, and grew more and more antsy the longer he kept himself from her.

"As you wish. Thank you for not putting an end to me." Davion replied, and moved towards the door.

"For now. Don't push your luck."

"You're so cross tonight. I hope sweet Sarah is able to perk you up a bit." Davion said, with a laugh. Jareth scowled. "Oohh, too soon?" He added. Jareth shook his head and huffed, neither confirming nor denying his implication. Davion turned, and headed towards the door.

---

"How the hell does he do this..." Sarah murmured, as she hopelessly fumbled her crystal-encapsulated rose over her fingertips. She flicked her hand, and it unintentionally rolled down her wrist, plopping into the cushion of the chair she'd been sitting in. She groaned, and tried again.

Sarah wasn't sure how long it'd been, but she'd been alone for quite some time now, patiently waiting for Jareth's return, like a good little girl, and had grown a little bored along the way. She was so mad when Roldan left, and had spent a great deal of time pacing anxiously about the room, waiting and anticipating the fight she was dying to have with Jareth. That man is so irritating! Ughhh! She still couldn't get over the way Roldan spoke to her, couldn't get over that she couldn't really do anything about it. And the more she thought about it, the more she assumed Jareth would probably end up taking his side anyway. Urg, she should have yelled more when she had the chance. It was useless screaming at Roldan, however -as she found out. No, Roldan was the type to wage war with his stoic silence. That kind of shit irritated her more than anything. At least Jareth fought back, you knew what he was really feeling, he gave you something to work with. Speaking of anger and Jareth, there was the whole Davion issue floating about in the back of her mind. It always seemed that she tried to rile him up, and yet when she was successful, found herself quaking in her boots in fear of the consequences. Seriously? Why do this to herself? But it was too late now, she'd made her bed and now she had to sleep in it. -urrggghhh. She gucked at her own turn of phrase, and tried to find a way to be angry with Jareth over the matter. No doubt, Jareth would be broiling when he finally came back, and she needed to be equally ready with her own wall of rage, if she wanted any hope of dealing with that as well.

But, as the minutes started to tick, Sarah found that she was suffocating with her own anger. And realized all this brooding was rather pointless. What could she really do, but wait? What good would it do her to stomp around for God knows how long? No, it'd be best to just put it all on hold and save it. With this in mind, she started looking for other things to occupy her time.

She stopped to clear her head, and in doing so remembered how ungodly hungry she was. She headed over towards the table, and spotted the tiny bell Jareth had given her for just such circumstances. She rang it and waited. A few minutes later, a Goblin showed up with a familiar tray and soon dashed off again. She frowned as she removed the lid, thoughts of her failed attempt to lengthen Davion's stay coming to mind. She wondered if Jareth had an actual reason why he couldn't stay for dinner, or if he was just being Jareth. A part of her told her that she had no right to complain, she'd been trying to make him jealous, angry, after all. It was only expected that he would tell Davion to go home. With that said, she was still disappointed. Davion seemed nice enough, sweet even. Nothing like Jareth...

After dinner, she found herself twiddling her thumbs as she quietly examined every nook and cranny of her room. For as fancy as it was, there really wasn't much there, just a few odd decorations here and there. There was a book case on the other end of the room, but she was too antsy to focus on reading; it would probably be something boring anyway.

On more than one occasion, she would find herself standing in front of the mysterious double doors leading out of her room. One, she knew lead into the hall. The other...she still had no idea. Being alone with nothing but her thoughts spurned her sense of curiosity. She opened the door, but just as before, she couldn't bring herself to venture into the darkness. Where did this door lead to? Why was it so creepy and foreboding? Why did she get such an uncomfortable feeling when ever she opened it?

But regardless of her curiosity, she was supposed to stay put in her room. And while she really couldn't care less about listening to Roldan, she did want to wait for Jareth. She had a lot of questions, odd things that had been pricking her attention all day; Roldan's confusion, Davion's mention of a celebration? It was apparent that there were things Jareth was keeping from those other than Sarah, and she found that to be rather interesting.

And so time passed, until Sarah found herself where she was now, sitting in a chair next to the fire, and mindlessly trying to master the art of juggling crystals. She'd spent more time chasing it across the floor than actually juggling it, but she was determined to at least roll it to the tip of her finger before the night was through. Speaking of which; attempt number 347 -

She flicked the ball up her hand. It was supposed to stop, to balance on the tip of her fingers, but it didn't, it kept on going, straight into the air. She gasped and jumped up, fearful of what it might crash into. It vanished from her sight behind a chair, and she dove on her hands and knees in an effort to catch it before it crashed to the ground.

Her knees hit the wooden floorboards with a thud, and she looked around with outstretched hands as she awaited the plummet that never came.

She furrowed her brow, and started glancing about the room. Wha? Where the hell did it go? She asked herself. She sat up and leaned back on her heels, and then turned around when a glimmer caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

She would have jumped, but she'd been mentally building herself up for this moment, so she really wasn't all that surprised to find Jareth sitting in what was once her chair, nonchalantly toying with her magical-disappearing crystal. She stood and stepped towards him. He wasn't looking at her, but knew she was watching, and purposefully twirled her crystal about his hand in a way that laughed in the face of gravity. She rolled her eyes at him.

"When you're done showing off, I'd like that back." She said, hands on hips n' all. Jareth rolled the crystal one final time, before catching it in his hand and tossing it up to her. She turned away, and moved to set it back in its spot on her vanity. She came back, and sat on the couch next to his chair. "How do you do that anyway? Is it magic, or skill?" She asked. Jareth turned, and crossed a leg over his knee at the ankle.

"A little of both." He answered. "I could teach you, if you'd like." He offered. Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. There wasn't yet a reason to be cross with him, so soon; but she'd been building up her frustrations for a few hours now, and it was becoming difficult to hold it in now that he was here.

"I think I'm more comfortable throwing them across the room." She said, poutingly. Jareth cracked a smile and rolled his eyes.

"It seems your mood hasn't improved much from earlier." He said, and sighed. He'd assumed Sarah would be in a foul mood when he came back, but he was hoping she may have let it go by now. How foolish for him to even entertain the idea of hope.

"Yes, well, I've had a rather trying day." Sarah said, sarcastically, and waved her hand up in the air.

"That makes two of us." He said. There was a pause, and both could feel an awkward silence slowly creeping in. It was strange, Sarah thought she would have started screaming at him by now. "So, what would you like to argue about first?" Jareth suddenly interjected. Sarah rose her brow and glanced over to him. He was sitting languidly only a few feet away from her, and slouched towards her with an odd, lopsided grin on his face. She didn't quite know how to discern him. Was he angry? Or was he trying to pick on her? She glared away, and tried to remember all the reasons she was upset with him.

"I think Roldan hates me." She bit out, thinking it would be best to work up to more pressing issues as time progressed.

"Hate is such a strong word." He responded. She glanced at him then, the tone of his voice was just as languid and carefree as his posture. Is he feeling alright? She wondered, but pushed the concern aside, and looked away.

"He was very rude, for no reason. I told him to stop being so disrespectful, and he said he couldn't disrespect someone with no respect to begin with."

"Ah, that's probably because you're dressed like a twelve-year-old boy." He said, with a certain kind of snark that she'd been experiencing far too much of lately. She darted her head towards him, glaring.

"What is it with you people and my clothes? Do I really look that bad?" She practically exclaimed, even tossing her hands in her lap at that. Jareth shifted in his seat.

"No, just inappropriate." He said, Sarah scoffed.

"If there is such a problem with my clothes, then why haven't you said anything? You've been quick to jump down my throat at all my other faults." She asked. Jareth sighed, and rested his jaw on the heel of his hand, seemingly bored with their conversation already.

"Personally, I couldn't care less about how you dress. When it comes down to it, all your fashion really is, is scattered bits of fabric littering the floor after I've ripped it from you." He explained, as if that was the most simple and self-explanatory bit of general knowledge. Sarah scowled. Would the sexual assumptions never cease? He took note of her offense, and continued before she had a chance to retort. "You're a grown woman, fully capable of dressing yourself; as long as you're decently covered, I see no reason to dictate to you otherwise." There, that was a little more appropriate. Sarah looked down as she thought this over.

"So, if you really don't care, why does Roldan have such a stick up his ass?" She asked. Jareth's eyes glared up at her, taking note of each curse word she threw at him.

"His job is to be strict." He answered. Sarah continued to stare, pushing him to continue. "If you haven't noticed yet, I do what ever I want, how and when. I keep Roldan around so that he may provide a just and unbiased perspective on things that I would otherwise disregard; in hopes of preventing me from making any decisions I may come to regret." He started to explain.

"So, what does that have to do with the way I dress?" She interjected.

"His job, is to help keep me in line, and by extension, keep you in line as well. I don't think I need to explain to you why it is improper for a Queen to dress so primitively." Sarah narrowed her eyes a bit.

"You listen to what he says?" She asked. He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Listen? Yes. Act on? Not always."

"So, what makes his opinion so invaluable?" She asked.

"He's honest."

"He's an ass."

"Mind your tongue."

"Hmmph. I don't like him. He's obscene and offensive." She grumbled, crossing her arms and pouting. Jareth perked up a bit, a little intrigued.

"He's really ruffled your feathers, hasn't he? Glad to see it's because of someone other than me for a change. What did he say that was so offensive?" He asked.

"That my manners are deplorable, my state of dress is abhorring, my language is disgusting and I have no self-respect." She snapped, glaring hard at the fire. Jareth's lips started twitching with the smirk he tried to suppress.

"Seems fairly accurate."

Sarah scoffed and rolled her eyes at him.

"Whatever, he's supposed to be a servant isn't he? And you want me to be Queen, shouldn't he be a little nicer when speaking to me?" Jareth sighed and slouched back in his chair. He probably should have warned Roldan about Sarah's temper...

"Whatever he said, he didn't mean it personally."

"His disgust seemed pretty genuine to me. And besides, it shouldn't matter. You're okay with him speaking to me that way?"

"His job is to tell us the things we don't want to hear, Sarah. That's why I keep him, he offers the hard truth that we want to ignore."

"Truth? I think he was just being a prick."

"Language." He commented.

"Screw my language! Do you even understand why I'm upset?" She exclaimed.

"Because I'm not the only one who thinks you're in need of firm discipline?" He guessed, mockingly. Sarah almost growled at him. She was trying to have a serious conversation, and he was making fun of her for it. Ugh.

"I'm serious, Jareth! He had no right to act like that! He had no right to talk to me like that, no right to put his hands on me!"

"What?" Jareth interrupted. Sarah was about to go on a tirade, but skidded to a stop at his comment.

"I said, he had no right to touch me." She repeated, and watched him awkwardly as he started staring her down. He didn't say anything, so she thought to explain a little further. "He told me to go back to my room, and I said no. He tried grabbing me but...I didn't let him."

"Hmm...I see."

"Is that considered permissible behavior as well? Because I'll be damned if I let myself be bullied around by the both of you." She started to lecture, but soon lost her thunder when she realized Jareth wasn't actually listening to her. His eyes were cast down, as if he were thinking about something very intently. She scowled, and waited for him to finish.

"Just me then?" He quirked.

"Well, I can't very well stop you now can I? With you being King and all. But I'm Roldan's superior, aren't I?"

"Yes... yes, you are." He mumbled, lost in whatever thought that was still tugging at his attention. "I'll speak with him."

"Please do."

They were quiet after that, each brooding about one thing or another. Sarah pouted in her seat, scowling down at nothing and trying her best to stay angry. She wanted to fight with him. That was what she'd been waiting for. But it just wasn't happening. She was being spiteful for no real reason. She drew her brow tight, and tried thinking of ways to go about picking a better argument. But, as seconds turned to minutes, she realized she wasn't as angry as she thought she was, and instead of fighting, thought that maybe now would be a good time to voice some of her more perplexing questions.

"Roldan didn't know about me, did he?" She asked. Jareth looked up from his dark contemplations, a little put on the spot by her question.

"No, he's been away. This was all just thrown on him today. I imagine that has something to do with his ... apprehension."

"I can see how news like that could put someone in a foul mood." She said, cattily. Jareth chose to ignore her attitude.

"How could you tell?" He asked. Sarah started shifting around, turning in her spot so she could better face him.

"He was very...confused." She said. Jareth started to grow more attentive then.

"How so?" He asked. Sarah shrugged.

"Well...he started leading me back to my room... but then he went the wrong way, and seemed really put off when I showed him where to go... Then he asked if I wanted him to fetch my hand maidens? Am I supposed to have servants?" She asked.

"Do you want servants?" He asked, deterring her from the rest of her concerning observations. He'd have to have a rather thorough talk with Roldan before the night was through...

Sarah blinked at him, and actually took the time to think that over.

"I...I don't know. Should I already have them? Roldan seemed to assume so..." Jareth shifted so he could sit more properly before responding.

"Sarah, you must understand that not all Fae have such an intimate knowledge of the Aboveground as I do. As I haven't yet explained you to Roldan yet, he probably assumed you were from here."

"From here?"

"Yes. There are humans in the Underground as well. They are few, of course, but their presence in our society is common place." He said. Sarah lowered her eyes as she thought.

"Ok, so what does that have to do with me having ladies in waiting?" She asked.

"If Roldan assumed you were from this world, then he also assumed you are a part of some well-to-do family -an obvious, though incorrect, explanation for our meeting and union- and being from such, you would have brought with you your own maidens to serve you in your new home. As this is not the case, you do not have any, and it is not my obligation to provide them for you." He explained. Sarah remained silent as she digested all of this. There were so many presumptions in and about the outside world. She was having a hard time discerning Jareth's so-called bias, from Roldan's, in an effort to figure out some actual, factual, knowledge about the Underground.

"Oh.." She murmured. Jareth leaned in a bit, examining the lost expression on her face.

"Would you like to have your own servants?" He asked. Sarah's head twitched as she registered his voice, and then scowled as she thought.

"Didn't you just say you're not obligated to provide them for me?" She countered.

"Yes... but that doesn't mean I won't. If you want something, all you have to do is ask."

Sarah's scowl continued to deepen, and Jareth didn't quite understand why. Was he missing something? He thought he was helping her. They were having a peaceful conversation. Why was she glaring like that?

"What would I even do with hand maidens?" She asked, but he wasn't sure if she were speaking to him or herself.

"Whatever you want them to do. Most commonly, they help you dress, keep you company, assist you in anything that may require it..." His voice trailed off as he thought of other reasons. He didn't spend excessive amounts of time with women, so it was hard for him to give examples as to the intimate actions of their servants.

Sarah gave Jareth's proposal honest thought. Did she want servants? At first, she couldn't fathom what on Earth she would do with them. She didn't need help getting dressed, and Jareth was doing a pretty good job of keeping her busy. She didn't like ordering people around, and knew she would feel awkward having a bunch of women waiting around for her to do just that. But...the company would be nice. She would have someone to talk to...but then again, they wouldn't be the gal pals she knew back home. They would be Fae women, most likely, hand-picked by Jareth. Did she really want to surround herself with a bunch of pro-Jareth mindsets? Not really. She could just imagine it, trying to vent girl to girl and being shut down, cold in her tracks, by being told that that was the way things were and that she had to obey her husband. Yea...Sarah was liking this idea less and less.

"I...don't think I need any. I mean...I'm perfectly capable of getting through daily life on my own, I don't need any help.." She said, a little uncertainly.

"You may think differently in time..." Jareth mumbled under his breath.

"Why do you say that?" She asked, and watched as his head darted up, apparently not realizing she may have heard him.

"Because you haven't yet been introduced into what will become your daily life." He said. Sarah frowned at that, now because she knew that she really didn't know anything. When was Jareth going to tell her all these things?

"And when will I be introduced?" She asked, trying not to sound too brisk.

"Well, after the show you put on this afternoon, I'd say we should start first thing tomorrow." He said.

"What do you mean show?" She asked, her voice just one level higher. Jareth sighed, and turned his head to look her straight in the eye.

"What did you think of Davion?" He asked. Sarah recoiled a little into her seat. Oh, so they were having that conversation now. She put her hands in her lap and tried to hold her chin high. This could be the opening she was looking for.

"I thought he was very nice...and sweet, and that you should be more like him." She stated, flat and firm. Jareth's expression shifted subtly. It became more rigid, more intense. His eyes, which were up until that point dazed and unfocused, drew on her mischievously, and he rose a finger to tap against the grin he was trying to hide.

"Really? And why is that?" He asked. Sarah didn't seem to catch on.

"Because he wasn't being devious or manipulative. He was appropriately flattering, not crude and offensive. He knew a little something about boundaries, something I don't think you've ever even heard of." She said.

"I see... You don't think he was being manipulative? How would you know if he was manipulating you?" He asked. Sarah drew her brow a little. He was trying to get at something, but knew he wouldn't just spit it out, she needed to dig for it.

"Because there was nothing about our conversation that required manipulation. It was as shallow and lighthearted as discussing the weather." She said, with a wave of the hand.

"And you think words are the only thing that can be manipulated in a conversation?" Jareth asked, rhetorically it seemed.

"Ok, I can tell you're trying to set me up for something. So can you please just skip it and get to the point? Is there a reason why he couldn't stay for dinner?" She asked, letting some of her pent up irritation show through.

"Because you aren't ready for that kind of interaction." He said.

"Aren't ready? Are you kidding me? It was dinner! I think I could have handled it." She exclaimed.

"Eating? Yes, you could have handled eating dinner, if that's what you mean. But I haven't taught you proper etiquette on how to interact with others yet. Your display this afternoon was proof enough of your inability to control yourself. It was embarrassing, quite frankly." He said, all haughty and condescending-like.

"What? What are you even talking about? What etiquette? And how did I fail to control myself? I didn't do anything! I thought I was being rather polite, actually." She was starting to get frustrated now. Why couldn't he just say what he wanted her to figure out? She hated his word games, they were so pointless.

"That's exactly my point, you have no idea what it was you did. And that is simply unacceptable. One of the reasons I've kept you such a secret is so I had time to explain to you the importance of interaction among my people."

"So explain! Geezus! Why are you being so shady about this?" She was sitting up on her knees now, trying hard not to lunge out at him and shake him senseless.

"You want me to be frank with you?" He asked. Her eyes were practically bugging out of her head in exasperation.

"Yes! Please! What did I do that was so horrible? Is that why Roldan was so disgusted? Did I do something I didn't know about?" She asked.

"Before I answer that question, tell me what it was you thought you were doing." The ghostly smile forever churning Jareth's lips grew and grew, but Sarah wasn't paying much attention to it.

"I -I-" She stuttered, not really wanting to admit what she was trying to do. But, it was obvious he already knew, and he didn't seem to be angry about it... "Well...I was a bit snippy with you...I guess that was on purpose...and I..."

"You what?" He urged.

"I...I may have been trying to flirt with your brother. And it may have been in payback for the torment you put me through this morning." She admitted, with a held breath. Aside from all the other obscurities, it always struck her the most odd at how blatantly honest she was with him. When ever he asked her something, she always answered, fully and truthfully. She thought it was because she was afraid of what would happen should he catch her lying but...it seemed to come naturally as well.

"So you were trying to make me jealous then?" He clarified. Sarah's widened eyes darted away, refusing to meet him in the eye.

"That depends... Did it work?" She asked, timidly. Jareth almost laughed.

"No." Her head darted up to him at that.

"No?" She repeated, a little dumbfounded. Jareth, the most controlling, possessive man she'd ever met, wasn't jealous or offended that she'd purposefully tried to goad him over his brother? How was that possible?

"No...You'd have to do a lot more than that to make me jealous, Sarah." He said, and she narrowed her eyes on his smile, as if only noticing its presence just now.

"What do you mean?" She asked, sensing something ominous in the way in which he said that. He lowered his eyes fractionally, and shook his head very subtly.

"That's a conversation for another day." He said, and her brow only grew more and more twisted. What did he mean by that? He didn't leave her much time to be confused over this however, as he started speaking again, calling away her attention. "Back to the one at hand. So, you thought you were engaging in casual conversation in an effort to spite me?" He asked. Sarah stared, using her silence as a signal of confirmation. "I'm glad you care enough to try to make me jealous." He added. Sarah opened her mouth as if to speak, but he raised a hand in a signal to wait. "With that said, do you intend on fucking my younger brother?"

Sarah gaped, openly, and blatantly. There were several things about that question that struck her; first, the fact that Jareth had just used the word fuck. He never cursed, ever. Second, was the sheer bluntness of it; and third, the odd, almost cheerful look that played across his face as he asked it. Her lower jaw rose and fell as she tried to play mental catch up.

"What? No!" The response burst itself out of her, with much more force and volume than anticipated.

"Are you sure?" He asked. Sarah started blushing then, not because she'd been found out or anything, but because she was simply uncomfortable talking about this with Jareth, especially after he'd been pounding notions of their own copulation so adamantly into her head. Why was he speaking so casually about this? Could he really not be angry? Or was this his anger? Masked by indifference? Was he trying to make her squirm?

"Yes, I'm sure! I don't want to have sex with anyone! But regardless of that, I'm supposed to marry you. I don't know about you, but the bond of marriage actually means something to me." She affirmed, which was true. Regardless of her spite against marrying Jareth, she would never conspire to cheat on him. Both because she believed in monogamy, and because she was terrified to death of what might happen should he find out.

"That's good..." Jareth mumbled, his thoughts briefly wandering to where this conversation could lead. There were things about their marriage Sarah was sure to reject, things she was sure to be disgusted with, and yet these were the very things that she might find liberating, and he found that worrisome. But, hopefully, Sarah's just now proclaimed devotion to monogamy would be enough to quell his worry, and maybe even turn it into something positive. There were three ways Sarah could react to that inevitable discussion. She could reject it, she could accept it, or she could utilize it. And it was that third option that gnawed him so. Perhaps in time...when they would both be better adjusted... He shook his head to himself, amazed with the level of emotion he felt over this issue. Never had he brought a single thought to this when making the decision to marry Sarah. But now, it seemed foolish to have ignored it. He wanted to marry Sarah because it fit in with his plan. He hadn't thought of the consequences of what would happen after the fact. If she wanted to make me jealous... He looked back to her, shutting out his thoughts. There was a better time to have that conversation, but it wasn't tonight. She was not ready for it yet.

"Why would you ask that anyway? I wasn't flirting that bad." Her voice broke through his minor daze, freeing him from himself just long enough to respond.

"No, you didn't have to."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked.

"My people...my people are considered to be connected to nature through our magic." He started, and sounded unsure of just how to say what it was he was trying to explain.

"Yeah?..." She quietly urged.

"We live through our senses...much more intensely than mortals do."

"Ok..."

"When we communicate, it is most often by the release of pheromones and chemicals rather than words." He said. Sarah scowled, just starting to grasp what he was saying. She thought back to that morning, to the strange state Jareth succumbed to while smelling her. Is that what he meant? Is that why he went all loopy? Oh, shit. She looked up to him, hoping he would offer more of an explanation. "And your chemical signals, my dear, were running rampant."

Sarah's face fell, feeling horribly embarrassed for reasons she was barely able to understand. She thought -she didn't realize -

"So, while you were harmlessly fluttering your eye lashes, with thoughts of my reaction, my darling baby brother was writhing hopelessly in the scent of your desire." He said, and paused, looking slightly upward as he recalled something. "It really was astounding. I could practically smell you from the hallway. Is he really so charming?" He asked. Sarah could feel her face beating with the pulse of her heart. How fucking embarrassing was this?! Ah, this was so much worse than she thought... He looked to her for a response, but her jaw was clenched so tight there was no hope of her speaking any time soon.

"You're offer to entertain him for dinner was just as easily an invitation into your bed, something he took to heart let me mind you. He was very excited about it. It took me quite some time to convince him you didn't know what you were doing." He said. Sarah just kept sinking lower and lower into her chair.

"So...Davion...you...Roldan?" She asked.

"Could smell your hormonal battle-cry for sex? Yes."

"Oh God." She said, pitifully, and covered her face with her hands. No wonder Roldan was so disgusted! No wonder he said I should be ashamed of myself! Ugh, Jesus, this is so embarrassing! She thought, hammering down on herself over and over.

"Yes...that is the kind of etiquette I'm most interested in teaching you...how to...control...your body...when talking to people." He said, trying to search for the right words. Sarah groaned, drowning in a pool of her own shame. Her hands still covered her face, and she brought her knees up to her chest and flopped onto her side.

"I feel like such an idiot! How is it you're not furious with me?" She uttered, pitifully. She felt so stupid, she must have made such a fool of herself. And what of Jareth? Having to endure that embarrassment in the background? All she wanted to do was twist a harmless thorn in his side.

"Because you didn't know any better, and because Davion did, and yet he took advantage of it. With that said, I'm still no where near happy with you, as none of that can cover up the fact that you still tried to openly disrespect me in the face of others, my own brother at that." He said.

Sarah tensed in her spot on the couch. She wasn't facing Jareth anymore, but could sense the more serious note his voice had taken. Should she be worried after all? She sat up, and scooted a little farther away from him.

"Well, now that all that is out of the way, what do you suppose I should do about the little stunt you've just admitted to pulling?" He asked. Sarah blanched. Shit. He was talking about punishments. She felt herself go rigid. Just the mere mention of his punishments scared the life out of her. She grew extremely anxious then, fearful of him in an instant. Her shoulders tensed, her whole body calling itself to attention.

"Um...let me off with a warning?" She asked. As dreadfully expected, Jareth started laughing.

"Oh, I don't think so. You don't appreciate the way Roldan spoke to you? I don't appreciate the way you speak to me." His voice took on a malicious rumble, a sound both delicious and terrifying. She placed a hand on the seat cushion next to her, preparing to bolt if need be. His smile widened at the panicked look in her eye, and in that moment, a sudden flash of an idea popped into his head. "How about this, given the circumstances, I may be willing to compromise." He said. Sarah narrowed her eyes, but didn't relax any.

"What sort of compromise?" She asked, warily. Jareth held her stare for a moment, before casually rolling his eyes towards a clock.

"Well, the night is still young. How about we start those etiquette lessons you're so dreading?" He proposed.

"Um.."

For as tensed and ready as she was, she found her body immobile as Jareth moved from his chair to join her on the couch.

"We can start with that mouth of yours. How many times have you cursed tonight? Let's see...three? Four? Five times was it? Not to mention your general rudeness and disrespect. I put up with you in private, but the line lowers dramatically outside of that. I will not have you embarrass both yourself and I in matters that are much more serious than you realize." He said. And on closer inspection of his dastardly grin, Sarah found herself jumping from her seat and darting away from him a good ten or so feet. "Why so skittish? I haven't even told you what your punishment is, yet." He said, smiling at her from over the back of the couch.

"I don't care what it is. I don't want it." She snapped, reacting more on instinct that intellect at this point. Jareth rolled his head towards her.

"You know it will be worse for you if you try to run, Sarah. I will catch you eventually." He said, and rose to start stepping towards her.

"Stay away from me!" She cried out in a mild panic, and tried side stepping further away from him. He started shaking his head.

"Really, Sarah? We were having such a calm and rational conversation just now. Don't ruin it." He said. Sarah's eyes widened.

"Ruin it? You want me to let you hurt me! What is rational about that?!" She called out, slowly realizing that all her effort was about to be meaningless. There weren't very many places for her to run off to, and besides, she knew that he would catch her just as he said. But, there was no way she was going down without a fight. -Fight. Yes, fight. This was her opening. This was the confrontation she'd been looking for. She would not let him think it was acceptable to punish her like an animal.

She realized just how close he was now, and jumped away.

"Get away from me, Jareth!"

Jareth sighed. This was really how it was going to be? So much pointless energy...

"Sarah..."

"No! It is not okay that you think you can just punish me when you think I've been bad! I am not an animal!" She yelled.

"Sarah...come here." He patiently ordered, trying his best not to lose his temper with her. She glared and snarled her lip at him.

"No. Leave me alone!"

Jareth lowered his head. She was making him out to be such a monster again, while she had no idea what he had originally planned to be her punishment. He shook his head in exasperation. She wants me to be the bad guy? Fine.

He rose his head and encroached on her with just a few brisk strides. She tried to dart away, but he captured her by the arms and held her in place. She started flailing against him madly then, as if his hands were made of molten steel.

"Jareth! Stop! Get away from me! Just leave me alone! Please!" She started shrieking, so frantic that he had to actually strengthen his grip rather tightly just to keep her in place.

"Calm down." He growled, though there wasn't true anger in his voice -yet. She wasn't listening however, apparently lost to her own barrage of emotions.

"Don't! Please! Please, don't hurt me! LET GO! I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, just don't hurt me. Let go of me!" She was still fighting him viciously, but now her shoulders started to sag, as panic turned to fear and inner turmoil. Her pleas bounced between anger and submission, reflecting her war of emotions. She was staring at the floor, wincing as if she were in incredible pain, and her breathing was hard and sporadic. Jareth scowled down at her. He was sure he wasn't hurting her...She was so overreacting right now. The display of which irritated him. If she would just shut up and listen to what he had to say, she would know he never intended to hurt her. Not all punishments had to be painful...

He tightened his grip on her wrists and jerked her to attention.

"Stop all your thrashing and listen to me." He commanded.

"Listen to you? Why would I listen to you? Just -leave -me -alone." She said, through gritted teeth and jerked herself hard away from him. Jareth scowled harder, and released her hands, watching as she used her own inertia to throw herself to the floor.

Sarah hit the floor with a crash, her mind scattered in a shattered mess about her. She had no idea why, but just the threat of Jareth punishing her brought about an instant state of catatonic panic. All she could think of were all the times he'd attacked her, of the fear she felt, and the horrid look in his eye, and most of all the pain, the horrible, terrifying pain. She remembered the pain she felt in her arm when he'd squeezed it so hard she was sure it had broken, of the sharp crack she felt in the back of her head when he'd thrown her to the floor in the throne room. She didn't want to feel any of it, not the fear, or the panic, or the pain. There was no way she was going through it again. God knows what he had planned for her this time. She was not taking the chance.

He hunkered down, and reached out for her, but she was quick to swat him away, and started back peddling across the floor until she managed to stagger to her feet.

"What is wrong with you? Just when I think we're getting along, when I think you might not be so horrible, you -you -ruin everything!" She cried out, with a fervor that she herself couldn't place. Her voice was growing louder and louder, feeding off her own energy. Jareth's expression was darkening fast, but he refused to let her unravel him. No. He stomped towards her and took her by the shoulders, snarling as he said,

"Stop talking." He snapped, trying his best not to let his anger control him. Why was she reacting this way? Why had she snapped so suddenly? He refused to let her ruin their night like this. She wanted him to be the monster. He would not. He would not let her control him that way. No, he had something better in mind.

"No, I will not stop talking! You can't order me around, Jareth!"

"This display of yours isn't helping." He said, low and slow.

"What are you going to do? Throw me around? Hurt me until I stop screaming at you? Let me tell you something, that won't make me stop!"

"What will then?"

"Leave! Leave me alone and stop! Just stop and go away!" She cried to him. Jareth's stare was blank anger, unable to fathom how in the hell the situation turned to this so quickly. He was getting angry now, not so much at Sarah, but at the situation in general. "Do you have any idea how much I hate you?" She bit out.

Jareth froze. There was a snap in the air, something he wasn't anticipating. He held Sarah by the shoulders, and started squeezing -hard. She bit her lower lip in an effort to suppress the pain, burning him with the rage in her stare.

"You don't mean that." He growled, and pushed her away from him. She stumbled back, gathering herself before launching another attack.

"No, I don't. But I should. I wish I did. I have every reason to. Why shouldn't I hate someone who abuses me?" Jareth winced distastefully, and stomped his way to her. She held her ground this time however, fisting her hands at her sides.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked, full of exasperation and rage. There was no reason for her to be acting so neurotically.

Sarah thought over Jareth's question in a nanosecond. Why was she doing this? Was he really asking her that? Why was she doing this? Because he's trying to hurt you! Her conscience exclaimed. He thinks he can control you! Push you into submission! You're not his dog Sarah! Fight him! You've been waiting for this! You need this! But as she worked her way through the rampage of her thoughts, she found she was still asking the same question. Why? Weren't they being rather complacent just a few minutes ago? What changed...what sparked? And that was when she realized the real reason she was losing her shit right now. She wanted to. Hadn't she been pacing her room for hours just thinking about it? Hadn't she been waiting for Jareth's return for the sole reason that she would fight him? Wasn't she looking for any excuse to be angry with him? Like she always was? She wanted this. She was making this happen, and she needed it to happen. With all her pent up frustrations...she didn't know what else to do with them but send them full force at the one person who could take it. She wanted this fight. She wanted him to fight back. Why was she afraid? Why was she doing this?

"Because I can." She said, and with that one, simple sentence, a resolve she didn't know she had surfaced and washed over her in a wave of twisted ascension.

"...What?" Jareth asked, his voice just barely balancing on his own meltdown. THAT was her justification for all this? Because she could? She was causing so much pointless drama out of spite? Why?! Where was the logic in that? He couldn't understand, and in his inability, grew insanely irritated. This woman...he wanted to take her by the throat and throttle her.

He lurched forward suddenly, putting only a centimeter between them, and snarled down at her, growing more and more frustrated with the stone cold glare he was met with.

"You spiteful wretch of a woman. Do you have any idea how infuriating you are?" He asked, grinding his teeth and wincing as if speaking were the most painful thing he had experienced.

"Leave me alone, and you won't have to deal with me."

Jareth closed his eyes and took a deep breath. What could possibly be going on in that neurotic little head of hers? What was it about her that brought him to the point of ripping his hair out instead of hers? He wanted to break her so badly his hands were trembling with the restraint of it, but something was holding him back. His heart started to pound, just as hers started to settle. She was doing this on purpose then? Fighting him on purpose? Trying to make him fight her back on purpose? Why?!

"What is wrong with you? Why are you fighting me?" He snapped.

"I've had a rather trying day, and you happen to be in my line of fire." She said. Jareth let out the breath he was holding, his shoulders relaxing barely enough to say so. They were each quiet a moment, letting each other settle down some before picking back up.

"Is that so?" He asked, and sighed.

"Are you still going to hurt me?" She asked.

"If you would have shut up and listened to me, you would know I wasn't planning on hurting you at all." He said, and with that, some of the tension lifted from them both.

"What were you going to do?" She asked.

"Oh, now you're listening."

"Now that I know pain is off the table, yes." She said, and practically stomped her foot at him. Jareth took another deep breath, readying himself for his next sentence. This is unbelievable... He thought, his sneer tensing as he ground his teeth.

"Let's play a game."

There was a pause. Sarah took a step back. What?

"What kind of game?" She asked.

"That depends, do you still want me to leave you alone?" He asked. Sarah furrowed her brow.

"Yes." She said, warily, a feeling that intensified when a sly smile began piercing Jareth's lips.

"How about this; if you can be quiet for FIVE minutes, I will leave you alone for the rest of the night." He said, slowly. Sarah turned her shoulder to him. Hmm...that seemed too easy, especially after the meltdown they'd just barely avoided.

"And if I'm not?" She asked.

"Then you have to stop fighting me for the remainder of the evening."

Sarah stood her ground, thinking over every possible loophole in Jareth's words. This seemed...too simple. There had to be a catch. He wasn't nearly as angry as he normally was. She glanced over him, running her eyes from nose to foot and back again. He was waiting for her answer.

"What's the catch?" She asked. He shook his head.

"No catch. Just stop -talking. Stop yelling. Stop cursing, for five minutes. Think you can handle that?"

She narrowed his eyes on him, suspicion pouring heavily out of her every pore. There wasn't a fiber in her being that told her she should trust him, but just the way in which he spoke told her just how tired he was. Maybe...maybe it was that simple?

"And this is my punishment?" She asked. Jareth started to sag.

"This is my compromise. Take it or leave it." He said. She pursed her lips, giving him one final glare before exhaling through her nose.

"Fine." She said, and watched as Jareth turned and raised his arm in the direction of the window. He started twirling his finger, and slowly, a clock began to materialize in the room. It's numbers only going up to five. He turned back, and she was utterly frozen in place by the wicked, melting, glowing sneer of total fucking victory that met her.

"Wonderful, we'll start now." He said, and in one swoop of his arms, lifted her up and threw her onto the bed.

---

Sarah gasped as she hit the soft plush of her bed with a quiet thud, and sank into the fabric. She didn't have the chance to think about what was happening when Jareth was suddenly on her. He straddled her waist, and took hold of her flailing arms and pinned them down to her side.

"Jareth? What the Hell are you doing?!" She screamed, fighting him tooth and nail in a pointless effort to escape. He smiled like deviant, and bent down to bring himself more level with her.

"Ah, ah, ah. Strike one. Two more, and you lose." He said, and pushed her arms high above her head and magically shackled them in place.

Sarah's panic level rose to Defcon 1 as she realized the stupidity of her decision. She knew better than to accept any sort of challenge from Jareth. Stupid! Stupid! She pulled against the bonds on her wrists, but met no avail. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might burst from her chest. She looked to Jareth, hopeless and pleading. There was no room for anger yet. He leaned over further, resting on his hands as he stared at her.

"You make a habit of trying my patience. You misbehave on purpose, knowing full well the consequences, and yet refuse to accept them. You pick fights with me, make me sick with my own rage, all because you think you can? You say you're so frustrated you have no choice but to lash out at me? Is that it? Well, I think I know a better way to help you relieve some of that tension." He said, and gripped the sheets tightly. "You agreed to this, Sarah. Five minutes. If you can stay quiet for five minutes, I will leave. I will leave peacefully and not bother you for the rest of the night. But if you can't. If you can't hold that tameless tongue of yours for five meager minutes, you have to stop fighting me, and let me do what ever I want to you until the sun comes up." He said, and locked eyes with her to make sure she fully understood what he was saying.

Sarah's eyes widened until they were the size of dinner plates. He was really going to do this to her? What was even happening? What the fuck? She felt her chest expand, about to unleash all Hell on him, but the glimmer in his eye caused her to suck in her lips and clench her jaw tight. Shit, he was serious. She let out a breath, rethinking her situation. Five minutes. What can he really do in five minutes?

"Before we start, let me make this a lesson by explaining what this will do for you." He started, smiling gallantly at her silent glare. "You have a problem controlling on what comes out of that pouting little mouth of yours. This will help teach you restraint, and consideration. We will also be tackling the problem of your over-burgeoning pheromones."

Sarah's entire body tensed at that. What? What does he mean pheromones? How-

"You have an excess of hormones spilling out of you, with no where to go. It's difficult for you to control because there is simply too much to control. The most logical solution to this, would be to exhaust them, find them someplace to go. Give them an appropriate -outlet- if you will." The more Jareth talked, the more Sarah dreaded the next five minutes. He was doing this on purpose, talking it up and psyching her out. As if this situation wasn't bad enough. "You think you can just attack me when you're frustrated, Sarah? I'm going to show you that there are better ways to go about relieving your frustrations." He said.

He sat back on his heels, and turned towards the clock floating off to the side. Sarah's eyes followed the line of his arm as it stretch out once again, and watched as he turned his index finger in a slow circular motion. She practically lurched up off the bed when she realized he'd reduced the speed of the clock by tenfold. Each second now stretched to ten.

"WHAT! That's not fair!" She screamed, and started jerking against her restraints. Jareth turned back to face her, laughing softly.

"Strike two. One more little outburst, and I win."

Sarah's heart fell to the pit of her stomach. If she spoke one more time, he would stay. He wouldn't let her go, and he would do God knows what to her for as long as he wanted. But if she stayed quiet, he would leave. But he'd just stretched five minutes to fifty. Could she keep quite for almost an hour? Fuck no. But, but she couldn't say anything. She had a decision to make, an hour, or the entire night. Her pride, or her body. What was he even going to do to her anyway? How far would be go? She bit the inside of her cheek and tried bucking him off of her. No one said anything about not fighting.

Jareth leaned over her, her wiggling body having no effect on him whatsoever, and brushed the hair away from her neck. He lowered himself, pressing flush against her and ran a finger along the collar of her shirt.

"Do you remember this morning? And our discussion about sexual activities? You're lack of which is what is causing you to fester so deliciously. You said you didn't want what I was offering you...and I said you didn't know what it was you were refusing?" He asked, rhetorically of course. "Well...I think it's time I gave you a small taste of what it is you want no part of. Maybe, before the night is through, you'll reconsider my offer." He said, and hooked a knuckle under her chin, pushing her up as he pressed his lips to hers.

Of course, Sarah did not for one moment even entertain the thought of responding. She kept her lips pressed tight together, refusing to give him anything, and tried turning her head away. He didn't seem to mind this, and instead kissed along her jaw and began to travel down her neck.

Her breathing escalated quickly, becoming more frantic the closer Jareth neared her heart. He rose his hands, and pulled off his gloves, tossing them aimlessly across the room. His lips were working their way over her chest, and his hands slowly traveled up and began undoing each button on her blouse.

Sarah gave an involuntary, panicky shriek in the back of her throat, and tried bucking against him once more. It was useless however, as all Jareth had to do was use the weight of his body to hold her still. He kissed a line across her chest as his hands worked free the final button. He reared up a little, and brushed open her shirt.

Their eyes locked, and Sarah felt herself blush like she'd never blushed before, and gulped as her teeth ground against each other. Jareth seemed very serious all of the sudden, determined, and ruthless. It was terrifying, and sinfully erotic. She hated it. She was so angry, but surprisingly, not with him. She was angry with herself, for allowing him to trick her so easily. So much had happened today, so much had happened between them today. Was this really how it was going to end? Ugh, this was literally going to be the longest five minutes of her life.

Wordlessly, Jareth leaned forward once more, and resumed his trail of feather light kisses down her sternum, pausing between the hallow of her breasts.

"Your heart is beating so fast...It's like you've caged a hummingbird between your ribs." He said, and carried on. She felt herself gasp, accidentally raising her chest up into him.

His hands splayed around the sides of her ribcage, holding her suspended just slightly. He nipped at the junction of her bra, and after crossing over it to more skin, pressed a hot, open mouth kiss hard and wet to the center of her abdomen. His hands started to wander, conforming to her body and taking in every curve they came across. His kisses traveled downwards, making a ring around her navel. She continued to struggle, but was quickly realizing it was a war already lost. She looked to the clock for hope, and almost died when she saw it had only been three seconds.

He shifted himself further down her body, and leaned up again. He nipped along the waist of her pants, dipping his tongue under the band as his hands made short work to the button in the center. She drew her legs together, and tried to focus on her breathing. It wasn't working. She thought about kicking him, but he was straddling her knees, and she couldn't move them in the slightest.

His hands gripped the fabric of her pants, and began to slowly pull down. She closed her eyes, and whined. She wanted nothing more than to give up. But she couldn't. She had to hold out. She felt the warm comfort of her pants as they were delicately maneuvered down her legs, and felt a brisk chill that came with their absence. In one final tug, he pulled her pants, along with her shoes, down and off of her. Instinctively, she drew her knees up to her, in a ball, trying to cover herself from him, and whimpered when he reached up, grasped her knee, and yanked them back down again. He re-straddled her knees, and ran his hands up and down the length of her thighs.

"You look so beautiful sprawled out like this." He said, and Sarah couldn't help but feel a hot pang in her chest at the way his words vibrated through the air. She looked away, disgusted. She should not be enjoying this. Not for one single moment.

In a flash, he was laying out against her again, his hands now running up the length of her arms. She took a deep breath, and opened her eyes.

"I want you to relax. This isn't meant to punish you. After the long day we've had...I think we both deserve a bit of release." He said. Sarah's eyes widened, aghast, and never before had she wished to be a mime. How dare he! She was in no way consenting to this! He was- he was- molesting her right now! Plain and simple. She thought about spitting at him, but wisely decided against it. "I wish you would have told me more about your past experiences, so I know more of where to start...But I suppose the basics are as good a start as any." He said, and while keeping his gaze locked with hers, ran his hand down the side of her, and gently squeezed at her breast. She may have yelped, but the sound was drowned out in the back of her throat. His grip became more firm, gently massaging her covered breast. He looked away from her then, watching his own movements, and pushed harder, raising her breast so it perked higher up her chest. "I don't much care for these things." He mumbled to himself, and moved his hand higher to dip under the cup of her bra. She tensed up immediately, and winced as if he'd burned her, biting her lip and huffing and puffing through her nose.

He paused then, as something clicked in his head. He moved off of her, off the bed completely, and walked towards the end post. She opened her eyes, and peered anxiously at him. He bent down, so she couldn't see what he was doing. When he stood however, she didn't quite understand what he was holding.

He had a -a scarf? A purple scarf in his hand. Why? How? That was when she remembered. She remembered, her first morning here, when he'd thrown the snake at her face...and it turned into a scarf. He'd tied it around her bed post... What was he doing with it now? He walked back, and crawled up her legs.

"I think this might help you relax, a little." He said, and reached up to tie it around her head. She thrashed against him. There was no fucking way she was letting him blindfold her. How is that supposed to help me relax? She wanted to scream at him. If she was blindfolded, she couldn't see the clock, but more importantly, she couldn't she what he was doing to her.

She huffed and puffed, but ultimately, Jareth got his way, and secured the bit of cloth tight around her eyes. She huffed, and threw her head back into the bed, feeling more on guard than before; but wasn't ready when he suddenly kissed her. She gasped and drew in a breath, which in turn granted Jareth some small form of access as he kissed her deeper.

"Relax. Feel my touch. Don't think about it. This isn't life or death. Just pretend this is one of your dreams, and enjoy." He murmured and moved away from her.

The pound of Sarah's heart was drowned out only by the sound of her breathing as her chest heaved faster and faster. She couldn't feel Jareth anymore. She couldn't see him. She had no idea where he was or what he was going to do. Lost in darkness only heightened her other senses, which combined with her anxiety, made her think that she would explode from even the slightest pin prick. How was blindfolding her supposed to help again?

It seemed as though decades were passing as she waited. She couldn't hear anything, couldn't feel any movement. What was he doing? Was he still there? Then suddenly, before her mind could crack any further, she felt the warm pressure of Jareth's hand as it pressed against the inside of her thigh, and caressed upwards. She whimpered in the back of her throat. Pretend this is a dream? Fuck that! She squeezed her legs tighter together, trying to block him from reaching his destination.

He pulled his hand from the trap of her thighs, and instead ran the tips of his fingers under the band of her underwear. She sucked in her stomach on reflex, in any effort of getting away. His hand moved up then, up the center of her stomach and over her breast. He leaned forward, and kissed along her stomach. He watched the way her legs trembled, and could hear the erratic pounding of her heart. He sighed, blowing warm air out over her quivering skin. This wasn't going to work if she didn't relax. He leaned up, and brushed away a lock of hair that had clung itself to her face. She twitched at the surprise of his touch.

"Are you really so afraid of me?" He asked. Not surprisingly, she said nothing. He looked down, over her ripe and quivering body, bringing together another hopeful thought. "Sarah, I can smell you. You're burning right now. Burning to be touched... Who knows, you may even lose some of that temper afterwards..." He tilted his head as he lazily traced along the line of her bra. "I'm going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer -no penalty." He said. Sarah's ears perked up. "Do you enjoy fighting with me?" He asked. Sarah frowned. Why was he asking her that? She opened her mouth to respond. "I want an honest answer." He added.

"I - ...yes."

"Why?" He asked, and waited. "No penalty." He quickly added. Sarah turned her head away from him, uncomfortably. Why was he asking of this now? In the middle of molesting her?

"Because...because I can't give in to you. I can't let you win." She muttered, shamefully. Why was she telling Jareth all this?

"I'm not asking you to give in." He said. Sarah pursed her lips. "If I promise not to fuck you, will you relax?" He asked. Sarah didn't respond, but the immediate lax that washed over her body was answer enough. Was that what she was so worried about? That he would rape her? How many times had he told her otherwise? He lowered his head, and kissed the lip she was gnawing at so viciously. "You're going to enjoy this, I'll make sure of it." He said, and pulled away.

Sarah teetered on the edge of an emotional cliff as she waged war over whether or not to heed Jareth's words. He said he wouldn't have sex with me...that means this is just foreplay, right? But, that shouldn't matter! He's still molesting me against my will! Her thoughts screamed one contradiction after another. She knew this was wrong, she knew she should be fighting him tooth and nail, but her body seemed to have other plans. There was no getting away, and knowing this, allowed the dark and nasty part of her subconscious to tell her that this could be like one of her dreams. This was going to happen one way or another, why not just swallow her pride and try to enjoy it? She snarled, and pushed those thoughts back into the murky depths from which they came. No. She had no choice but to lay back and take it, but she would not give him the satisfaction of her writhing. And so she fought and fought, keeping perfectly still all the while.

But, regardless of her opinions, she did feel tremendously more relaxed after Jareth's promise. She was no way on board for this backhanded, twisted little game of his, however. What was she supposed to do? Aside from the obvious and not talk? How far would this go? She wished she knew what time it was.

Jareth moved down the bed, and ran the tips of his fingers up her thigh once more. She was tense, but it was more from anticipation than from fear at this point. He inhaled through his nose, savoring the sweet smell of her arousal that blossomed feverishly against her better wishes. He felt his own desires flare, but pushed it away. This was about her, not him. If he could introduce her to this -leaving her wanting, and curious - perhaps things would work out in the long run. But for now, he knew to keep his head about him. This was still a game in every sense. His hand continued upward until he brushed over the sensitive mound at the apex of her thighs. She took in a sharp breath and jerked. He pushed his hand downward, grazing flat-palmed over her cleft. She jerked again, and pushed her legs tighter together.

He pulled his hand free, and jerked apart her legs, moving to sit over one, ensuring she couldn't cut him off again. After he was secure, he brought his hand back to the flaming hotspot between her thighs. He pushed his fingers against her, firmly and rhythmically, and closed his eyes as he savored the heat.

Sarah was quiet. Dead quiet. She lay utterly frozen, unable to actually react to Jareth's actions in any way. Her thoughts were a mad house however, lecturing her conscious mind not to pay any attention to him, to just lay through it until the five minutes were up. But she was having a hard time ignoring the feeling of his massaging her there. He was right, you couldn't actually feel anything in a dream... There was a crack in her armor, and a small, almost invisible roll of her hips seeped through.

Jareth inhaled sharply at the feeling of her press up against him, subconsciously no doubt. He lowered himself, and began kissing up her knee as his fingers pressed harder, moving in rhythmic circles around her pleasure center.

Before she knew it, his hand had moved lower, and dipped beneath the hot and steamy fabric of her panties. This new, more intense contact caught her off guard. His fingers were both warm and cool all at once, and skillfully pushed and dipped between her folds, spreading her. She opened her mouth and arched her back, an action that she quickly counteracted, and instead tried, painfully almost, to keep herself glued to the mattress.

Jareth's lips were slowly meandering up the length of her thigh, inching closer and closer to the radiance of heat already flushing his senses. At once point, it was almost too much. He bit down on the flesh of her thigh, and thrust two of his fingers inside of her, pushing as far as her body would let him, and stretching her wide, feeling every bit of warmth and wetness she had to offer.

Sarah let out a hoarse, almost cough like moan, as she lurched off the bed. She couldn't see what was happening, so every little movement came as a tantalizing, horrid, surprise. He started sucking on the artery on the inside of her thigh, plunging his fingers viciously in and out of her. The way he curled his fingers made her squirm, and caused her face to grow hot as she tried to fight off her body's reaction to him. Her mouth refused to close, taking in one heavy breath after another.

She'd never felt anything like this before, anything this remotely intense, and all he was doing was fingering her. Maybe it was because she was blindfolded. Maybe it was because she was scared to death. Either way, she found that she could only watch as her body began to push and pull against him, though it was no longer fighting to get away.

Feeling Sarah's body betray itself, Jareth removed his lips from her thigh and kissed the short trial between there and her cleft. He kissed and bit at the fabric of her underwear, breathing hot air into her now sensitized flesh.

Sarah squirmed, feeling both ashamed and embarrassed for what Jareth was doing, and what she was doing in response. She felt the heat of his lips on her, felt the moisture of his tongue through her panties, and she couldn't do anything about it. She hated it. She was revolted. And yet...

Suddenly, Jareth's free hand reached down and pushed the lace of her underwear out of the way. His mouth latched into her newly exposed flesh and sucked, swirling his tongue around her center and flicking at her poor unprepared bundle of nerves. As he did this, he thrust a third finger into her, pushing her apart and hitting every pleasure button he could find. He was precise and matriculate, never once faltering from his concentration. Fuck!

Sarah arched so high off the bed she thought she may have broken her back. The quick and sudden impact of Jareth's wonderfully wet mouth hit her like a brick wall. She shrieked, refusing to let it turn into a moan, and held herself suspended as she endured his onslaught. She felt every movement of his fingers, every flick of his tongue. She felt a heat rising in her cheeks and she was helpless to stop it. And in that brief moment of suspension, couldn't deny the fact that she didn't want to. Her chest became heavier and heavier as she heaved for breaths that did nothing to quell the lightheaded feeling that was quick to consume her entire body. She tensed her legs against him, struggling against the churning, burning sensation pounding through her. The more intense it became, the more it consumed her. She knew this feeling. She knew this heat. She'd felt something similar to it -that morning. But as she now realized, her own self pleasure compared nothing to this. Nothing to the downfall of morale she was letting Jareth drag her into. She heard herself moan against her will as every muscle in her body clenched, and then released in a slow, shameful euphoria.

Jareth removed his fingers, and sat up over her. He licked one while pulling up the blindfold concealing Sarah's eyes. She had a terrified and flighty look on her face, while Jareth's smile couldn't have beamed any brighter.

"Well, that was much too easy. How long has it been?" He said. Sarah would have scowled, but she was breathing too hard to make any kind of real expression. "I think we should try again, try to get you to hold out a little longer next time." He said cheekily, and pulled the blindfold back over her eyes.

Sarah relaxed her shoulders into the mattress. That wasn't nearly as traumatizing as she thought it would be. Actually, it was the exact opposite. And for as eternal of an experience as it was, it had all happened rather quickly. She'd fought against it, fought both him and herself, and yet he was able to command her body effortlessly. Realizing this, fighting started to seem like a pointless notion as she hummed on the afterglow of her orgasm.

Maybe it was the release of physical tension, maybe it was the blindfold, but there was a new fluidity moving through her that she'd never before experienced in such a way. She was angry, but it no longer dominated her, it no longer consumed her mind and asphyxiated her rational. It was like a weight had been lifted, allowing herself to question once more, why was she doing this? At what point did spite exhaust itself?

Is that what Jareth was trying to do? Could she really release her anger through an orgasm? Her spectral self did a quick once over of the heap she'd been reduced to in only a matter of minutes, and concluded that must be exactly the case.

But, just when her breathing started to shallow, she felt the hot pressure of Jareth's mouth press against her neck. She drew in a breath and whipped her head away, unconscious of her own reaction. He shifted over her, and pushed the sides of her shirt further apart as he languidly sucked his way down her neck. She arched her back when his fingers dipped under the strap of her bra and tugged, shifting it up her shoulder. His hand lowered, under the cup of her bra, and began gently massaging the tender fullness of her breast.

Sarah jerked on reflex, but was surprised at how -unsurprising his touch was. Now that she was finally starting to relax, she was able to figure out why Jareth had blindfolded her. She couldn't see. She could see him, or her or any of the shame that was transpiring between them. She was afraid of this at first, but now... Now she was able to disconnect, remove herself from the situation, block out all the wrong, all the resentment, leaving nothing but pleasure, pure and simple pleasure. It was like having an epiphany.

She was being slowly consumed by the burning clutches of her primal self. And the more it dominated, the less she fought against it. Her mind was turning on itself. She was no longer actively fighting. She wasn't doing anything. Her conscience was blank, her thoughts quiet. She was hollow, allowing herself to be sucked further and further into the vacuum of her libido. She didn't care. She was shameless. Her opinions started to scatter. None of it mattered right now. All that mattered was feeling. Pleasure...she was lost to it, completely taken by it. And all this was amplified by the fact that she didn't have to accept it, she didn't have to acknowledge it. Jareth wasn't there. She could shut him out if she wanted.

She reveled in the darkness, floating in the strange sense of lucidity it gave her. She brought his words back to her, Relax. Feel my touch. Don't think about it. This isn't life or death. Just pretend this is one of your dreams, and enjoy. He was right, this wasn't life or death. But, she wanted it to be. Why? She didn't understand her own principles anymore. Looking back, her eternal conquest to fight him seemed almost irrational. But, she knew that was just her body talking, and would wear off before long. Just pretend...pretend. She told herself. Pretend this is all harmless, pretend there won't be any consequences after. A dream.. Make it a dream. It doesn't matter. Maybe this could be like a dream...

Jareth's hand stopped massaging her breast to raggedly yank down the cup of her bra, hiking her breast above it. He removed his hand from her, and lightly ran it down her stomach. He took his lips from her neck and moved lower, holding himself just a hair's width above the trussed up and exposed flesh of her rosy pink nipple. She could feel his breath on her, a sharp kind of heat that sent a shiver down her spine. Her skin rippled with goosebumps and her nipples hardened under the tantalization. She was practically quivering under him. But it wasn't him. She didn't view it that way. She forced herself to ignore it, she couldn't endure it otherwise, couldn't enjoy it. No. Jareth was irrelevant. All she knew was darkness and sensation.

He lowered his lips and lightly rolled his tongue around her nipple.

Sarah gasped, the rosy bud hardening further. She began arching this way and that as she tried to escape the intensity of his lips and tongue as they gently suckled at her flesh. His hand traveled downward, and brushed a line along her pubic bone. She felt her muscles tense with the proximity of his hand, and felt the return of the churning tension in the pit of her stomach. He placed two fingers over her clit, and pressed down.

Her mouth dropped open, and she tried not to squirm as his fingers began pushing and twirling down on her. It was such a simple, light touch, but it spurned a feeling deep inside that begged for immediate release. She could feel her body opening, ready, no -wanting to be filled. But it was a plea left unanswered. Jareth kept his fingers on her clit and no where else, while he bit down on and slowly sucked on her breast. He wasn't -wouldn't- touch her anywhere else. She was growing hot with the heat that radiated from her to the blanket and back again. It was driving her crazy, but she wouldn't let herself admit it. She knew how good it felt, knew how much she craved it, but refused to let Jareth know as well. On the inside, she may have been scrambled and scattered, mentally battered by the ongoing struggle for dominance between her conscience and her libido; but on the outside she remained as rigid and indifferent as she could, the only tell to her facade being the subtle jolts that shot through her body and the airy tone of her panting as she struggled to refill her brain's supply of oxygen.

The simple repetition of Jareth's torments dragged on and on, staying constant throughout all of Sarah's reluctant squirming, and driving her higher and higher to the point she loathed to love. She knew this would happen eventually. She knew she couldn't stave him off forever. But, for some reason, she never thought she and Jareth would actually be in this situation. It was surreal, and in fact dreamlike in every sense. For the first time since arriving, she didn't think sex and all it entailed was that horrible. She was honestly enjoying herself, just as he'd said. Was it really nothing but her pride and his arrogance that stopped her from pursuing this on her own? Yes well, that was more than enough.

With all that said, pride and arrogance, it wasn't there anymore. There was nothing between them, aside from her blindfold. And in the back of her mind, behind all the restraint and anxiety, she couldn't help but wonder if this was a glimpse at what things could be like between them. While she couldn't see him, while she was ignoring the very fact that it was he who was doing this to her, she felt unbelievably close to him, and dare she say -intimate? Had she ever been intimate with Jareth before? And true, there was nothing intimate about their current situation, as she was still set on the fact that he was molesting her -whether she secretly enjoyed it or not- , but she couldn't deny the feeling of something deeper.

All this contemplation passed within the few seconds Jareth held Sarah's orgasm on the brink of eruption. She rolled her head back, fed up with so much thinking, and prayed she could just feel the crashing feeling of glorious completion once again.

It seemed like it would never come, like he was purposefully keeping her on the edge, holding her back from falling. Her panting became louder and more irregular, her voice raising several octaves as the feeling burgeoned and intensified deep within her belly. And then finally, she could take no more, filled to the brim with a feeling she thought she knew, a feeling that she had only ever imagined in her deepest darkest dreams. This feeling boiled over, more agonizingly blissful than she could have ever hoped to fathom. He was right. He was right. God damn it, he was right.

She thought she felt herself coming back down, returning to her body, and along with it came an immense feeling of relaxation. She never thought it could be possible, but in that moment of hanging lucidity, she was no longer frustrated, she was no longer angry. In that moment, she truly was caught between a dream and reality. And Jareth...Real or Dream, it didn't matter.

Suddenly, Jareth moved away from her, and pulled the blindfold from her eyes and the whole world came crashing down on her.

"Time's up." He said.

The moment Sarah's eyes breached the barrier of the outside world was like waking from a dream. She was back in her room again, crudely exposed and panting in sweat. Jareth was looming over her, his sneer reduced to a humble curl of the lips. Her eyes met his, and just like that, all the anxiety, shame, and disgust came flooding back like a sea of long lost turmoil. She put all that on hold however, and balanced on one toe along the fence separating the two ways in which she could react right now.

One part of her was outraged. Outraged with herself, embarrassed, and ready to fall apart. The other half however, saw this pivotal moment as a gateway. Something that would turn the course of their relationship. Depending on how each handled this situation could determine whether or not they took a step forward together, and dispersed miles apart. What those actions were that would cement those two paths however, she had no idea.

And so, for the time being, all she could do was stare hopelessly up at Jareth as she waited for some kind of dawning realization.

Jareth reached up, and unclasped her hands, and then leaned back on his heels as he began to turn away from her. Sarah drew her arms to her, and began running circles around her wrists. She tried sitting up, and looked over at the clock, furrowing her brow in confusion when she saw it had paused on three minutes. Her attention shifted however, watching confusedly as Jareth stood from the bed and stepped away.

"You're leaving? But...it hasn't been five minutes." She called out. Jareth turned back, smiling coyly over his shoulder.

"I know." He said. Sarah continued to grow more and more puzzled.

"So, you're what? ...forfeiting then?" She asked, and glared when his smile stretched. "Why?"

"Because this wasn't about winning or losing, Sarah. It was about making a point."

"And what point is that?" She asked.

"That the only one you're really fighting here, is yourself. And, regardless of the way this ends, I will always win." And with that, he was gone.

---

Sarah found herself sitting alone on her bed, in a mess of fabric and disappointment. So he was just...making a point? Playing a game?! Keeping score?! She sat, and glared at the spot where Jareth had once been. She didn't know what she would be feeling at this point, didn't know how she would react, but even in her ignorance, she felt as though something wasn't right. She began to stew, dwelling in a shallow pool of disgruntlement as the lingering cloud of her arousal gave way to the voice of reason. What Jareth had done to her... It was wrong, and yet...she would be a liar to say she didn't enjoy it. Towards the end, she actually felt...something. It may have been carnal, and nasty, but it was real. It was...intimate. She thought maybe...maybe. Maybe what? That he felt it too?

But the way Jareth left her just now, left her to face her shame... He had purposefully defiled her, and was gloating about it. He'd done this to her, put her in this position. All to prove a fucking point?! She snarled down at the bed, realizing just how sterile and calculated everything truly was. Let's play a game, he said. Of course that's all it was. How could she think there might have been anything more to it? There was no intimacy, none whatsoever from Jareth. But why did that upset her? Was she expecting it from him? Was she expecting him to care? All he'd done was use her body against her, that was all. She felt like an idiot. Letting herself be fooled by him in more ways than one. The look on his face...that fucking smile. What was she expecting? What was she hoping for? Would she admit that maybe, just maybe, somewhere deep down, she was hoping to see him just as flustered as she was? To see him churning with some unnamed emotion? To see anything that could have fooled her into believing he actually cared?

She shook her head, aggravated beyond all belief, and gathered herself from the bed. Her knees wobbled as she made her way to the bathroom, and she clung the two halves of her shirt closed as she walked.

She shut the door behind her and pulled down the sodden and torn remains of her underwear; then reached for a washcloth so she could clean herself off. She didn't want to admit it, but all Jareth's dirty descriptions of sex were spot on. She could feel the residual fluids of her orgasms dripping down her legs, and she felt uncomfortable with the hot and sticky sweat that plastered her hair and remaining clothing tight to her body.

She wiped herself good and thorough, but it wouldn't stop. She huffed and looked up into the mirror, and almost gasped at the rosy cheeked harlot that met her. She stared, aghast.

Her hair was an utter mess, knotted in mats from all her tossing and turning. Her skin was still heated, and bloomed a bright pink. Her shirt hung open, and was now hanging off one shoulder while her bra had been viciously twisted to one side. She was a mess. A total fucking disaster.

She stared at herself, really stared. What the Hell did he do to her? She roamed her eyes from head to toe in the mirror, and quickly became disgusted. I let him do this to me. I let him trick me. I...I let him use me. It was all just a game to him. Her thoughts began to mumble and echo. She played over every moment of Jareth's game, and realized that there wasn't a single moment she wasn't writhing for him. She felt stupid, like a total fool. How could she think she was resisting him? How could she think she could hide? He knew how she felt, and he exploited every ounce of it. It was all a game. Every second of it. She was an idiot to listen to him. Pretend it's a dream...

And then he left. He left her teetering, hanging on the edge and reaching out for him. She was actually reaching out for him and he did nothing. He left her alone, to face her own denial. He made his point, loud and clear. He left her. Alone.

She lowered her head and winced as she gripped the rim of the sink in frustration.

"God damn it, Jareth. You son of a bitch." She whispered under her breath. She was so angry. So angry she'd let him use her like that. So angry she'd given in. It was obvious he didn't care. He'd done this to her, made sure that she would feel this way. He didn't care about how she felt, as long as he got what he wanted... He always got what he wanted.

She took in a deep breath, her hands shaking as she held herself up. She hated him. Absolutely hated him. She hated him, and wished she didn't care enough about him to bother hating him. She let him get to her. She let him worm his way through, when she should have just cut him off from the start. But she couldn't, she couldn't let go. She couldn't hate him, because she still had hope, hope that things weren't as bad as they seemed, hope that there was still a chance to wake up and find out this nightmare had been just that. She hated everything about him, and yet she would never hate him. Because he was all she had left. There were moments, moments when she thought it might not be so bad, when she thought everything would be ok. She'd been fighting him for so long. She was exhausted. She hated him, she wanted nothing from him, and yet she expected everything. She wanted everything.

She opened her eyes and looked up at herself once more, disgusted and horrified with the image that met her. She felt despicable, revolted. She shouldn't care. She shouldn't give him that satisfaction. She shouldn't care enough to let him hurt her. She should just turn her back and look away, but she couldn't. She wanted to be happy. She wanted hope. She wanted him. She wanted him so badly it hurt. But he would never give her what she wanted, because in order to do that he would have to lose. He would have to lose, like it was a game. She wanted nothing of him, and everything from him. And she hated it. She hated herself for it. She was weak. She made herself weak. There was no point in having hope, it always brought her pain.

Did he really not care at all? Was he really so cruel? Was she only a challenge to him? Something to dominate and take victory over? Was there really nothing more? How could she let herself be affected so strongly by such a monster?

"I am not a fucking conquest!" She suddenly screamed, and thrashed her arms down at the sink. This was her life. It wasn't a game. Liana told her she to use herself as a weapon. But she wasn't strong enough. If she was gambling with her own body, her own heart and soul, what was Jareth gambling with? The stakes were so much higher for her, and she wasn't ready to make a move. She wanted to give up, call it quits and screw everything. Screw Jareth. Screw this world. Screw this game!

She felt her arms begin to buckle, and lowered her head once more, unable to look at herself any longer. She hated him. Hated him because he didn't care. Hated him because he cared in all the wrong ways. She hated him because she did care. And she hated him because she wanted him to care. She felt so confused, so lost. Alone.

She dropped to her knees, gripping the rim of the sink with her hands, and cried.

---

Jareth pranced through his chambers with all the flare of the sun in his step. After all the hectic inconveniences of the day, he felt as though he'd managed to successfully redeem the evening for the better. Things could have ended very badly between he and Sarah. He could have lost his temper, hurt her as she said. But he was proud of the road he'd taken. She'd been denying her desire for him for so long, it was about time to set things straight. She craved his touch like a famine, her body responding to him wildly and passionately. He loved it. Absolutely loved every minute of it. He loved watching her writhe for him, and he loved the satisfaction that came with it as she tried to openly fight against it. He reveled in her denial, and reveled in blowing it clear out of the water.

He had very much wanted to prove a point to her tonight, the point that all ...this... was in fact pointless. He knew how she felt. He knew she lusted for him. Why keep denying it? Why fight? Why spend their time hating each other when they could just as easily love? If they were frustrated, why not exhaust it in ways that would benefit them both?

Well, he was fairly confident he'd found a way to put an end to that little bump in the road once and for all. Of course, he knew she would retaliate tomorrow; be angry with him, attack him in some way. She'd call him a monster and say all kinds of horrible, accusatory things. But he didn't care anymore. Everything was out in the open now. What concern was it of his if she chose to waste her own breath?

He inhaled deeply, savoring the lingering aroma of Sarah's excitement that still clung to him. Gods she had so much passion! He could smell it on her, and practically taste it in the future, how wonderfully delicious it would be. She couldn't keep up this charade forever. She would fall to him. First her body...

Thoughts of the future, combined with his almost giddy feeling of victory, had him pondering just how grand life could be once this was all said and done. He would possess every part of her. He would own her body, her mind and soul. She would love him one day. He could feel it. And he couldn't wait, not just for the sake of his plan, but because he truly believed he and Sarah could live happily ever after. He wanted so much. He wanted to give her so much. He wanted to lay the world at her feet if she would only smile in return. Just let me rule you, and you can have everything that you want. I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave. He didn't think he couldn't have made it any more clear to her back then. Nothing had changed. If anything, it only became more true. He meant what he said, and he still did. He was still waiting, waiting for her to realize what he meant, to realize that, in his own way, he was hopelessly in love with her. (That was why he couldn't kill her, why he was marrying her instead.) It was so simple...and yet so difficult. She just didn't understand. She didn't understand what it meant to be loved by him... And he was man enough to realize that she didn't even view it as such. She still dwelled on the romances of dreams and fairytales, and this was no fairytale. It pained him, but she needed to accept this as a reality before she could ever hope to fathom the depth of his feeling for her. Real feeling, real love, it wasn't easy, it wasn't pretty, it wasn't breathless or fluid. It was merciless, distraught and unwavering. That was their reality. And that was the way her loved her. That was what separated himself from her dream incarnations. He was real, his feelings were real. But it seemed every time he had the chance to tell her this, something went horribly wrong, and everything, all of it, was lost in translation, misunderstood by differing modes of expression, and ripped to shreds in the crossfire.

This feeling of nostalgia, and flighty melancholy only made him more optimistic for the future. He loved her fiery spirit. He loved her sharp temper and the heated look in her eye. Even when he thought he was going mad with rage, he loved every minute of it. It invigorated him, not fighting with someone, but fighting for someone. She pushed him, and he pushed her back. He'd never cared enough to put forth the effort before. With that said, he saw this night as a victory. As a stepping stone. Just one more inch closer to the day she would let him rule her, let him love her.

He tried, and failed, to ignore all this however. He had a mission, a goal in mind. And he needed to keep focus on that and that alone. Entertaining the illusions of his own feelings would only cloud things. No...that could all wait. All that, all those possibilities, were set in the future, set for a time where securing their happiness would be his number one goal. That couldn't be so right now. He already had a number one goal -take back his power. He'd told himself this countless times. But as the days slowly passed, as he slowly began to know this girl, this horrible, vile, vexation of a woman, he found one goal start to outweigh the other. He found himself forgetting, forgetting there was a reason she was with him in the first place. When he was with her, everything else just seemed to vanish, lost in a cloud of unbridled frustration. And the more he experienced this agony, the more he craved it, the more he wanted to be consumed by it, the more he wanted to fight for it, to be lost to it.

He was too distracted to notice the pale glowing butterfly that fluttered in through the window. It glided by, in front of his face, calling his attention. Jareth peered up, curious and wary as he watched it. What is she doing here now? He asked himself.

He and Liana were still on rather poor terms with one another. After their big blow out, and the destruction of the Labyrinth, Liana had tactfully stayed away in order to collect herself and let the situation settle. But she was here now, and in her more peaceful form at that. He turned his head to follow the ghostly creature as it swooped this way and that. He narrowed his eyes, waiting for her to do something.

"What do you want?" He snarled, not quite ready to let his good mood be spoiled. There was no answer from the apparitional insect as it glided across the room. Jareth kept close eye on her, becoming more and more on guard with the unease of her silent presence.

The butterfly continued to flutter it's wings in a lagging haze that hummed through the air in graceful wisps. It fluttered farther and farther away from Jareth, until it landed on the door. Jareth's narrowed eyes turned into a glare as he slowly pieced together what Liana's purpose was. There were two doors in Jareth's room. One led to the hall, and one led to Sarah. The butterfly crawled along the door of the later, seeming to be waiting for something.

Jareth twitched, second guessing the impulse to approach. What was she doing here? Being so ominous? It obviously had something to do with Sarah. Cautiously, he took a step in the direction of the door.

Liana's wings started to flutter once Jareth came near. Her wings folded, and her body churned. She glowed brighter, and brighter as she made the transformation from butterfly to rose. Her light dimmed, until all that was left was the golden sparkle of the rose vines that were steadily growing and entwining with the surface of the door.

Jareth...didn't understand. What was she getting at? Why not just tell him? He figured she was trying to get him to go back to Sarah. But why? Why would she try to bring him to her? Liana's actions were wild and radical, and he didn't trust her for a minute.

He stood there for another minute or two, waiting, but nothing happened. At first, he refused to follow her, thinking it may be some kind of ploy. But, after only a moment or so, his sense of curiosity started to get the better of him. He took hold of the handle of the door, and pushed it open.

---

Sarah had sat on the bathroom floor for what she considered to be a pitifully lengthy amount of time, and after picking herself up, was only able to migrate to the window, where she slowly sank to the floor in a cocoon of her own revolt. She hadn't bothered to dress herself. Hadn't bothered to brush her hair or take a bath. It didn't matter. It didn't matter how well she erased her and Jareth's actions, if she couldn't erase her troubles as well. In the beginning, she hated that she was crying. That she was weak enough to break down because of him. But her tears weren't woeful and full of self pity. No, they were tears of frustration, which mostly consisted of hiccups and dry sobs. She sat with her arms wrapped around her shins, and buried her face in her knees.

She was so distracted, she almost didn't feel the tickle on her arm as something started crawling along it. She looked up, and saw that a pale, almost iridescent, butterfly had landed on her. She tilted her head, and tried to smile at it, before giving up. She sniffled and lowered her head back into herself. Why were there so many butterflies?

---

Jareth paced warily down the dark hall leading back to Sarah's room. His thoughts grew sharper and sharper with each step. Something wasn't right. Why would the Labyrinth be directing me towards Sarah? Hasn't she been trying to deter me from the beginning? He thought, and gently eased open the door leading into Sarah's room, cautious of what might meet him.

He stepped across the threshold, and looked around the room. It was quiet, eerily so. As his eyes scanned over the scenery, they landed on a crumpled heap of tattered cloth and long dark brown hair. Reflexively, Jareth stopped dead in his tracks, not expecting what he saw. He narrowed his eyes, and looked her over once more.

She was sitting on the floor, under the window, clinging to herself as she quietly sobbed. She hadn't heard him enter, she was oblivious. He drew his brow then. What? Why is she crying? He wondered. His brow twitched when catching the flutter of wings as Liana flew from Sarah's arm and glided her way towards him. Still think you're trying to help her? My King. The deep echo of Liana's voice rang through the dead hollow of his thoughts. His ears twitched, but he soon realized she was speaking only for him. Sarah was still completely unaware of either of their presences. Jareth scowled, drawing his eyes on the butterfly as it fluttered and twirled about him. Why have you lead me here? His thoughts answered. Liana seemed to pause in her flight, but only as to change direction and began hovering towards the window.

He followed her, quiet as can be, until he was standing only a few feet away from Sarah. She hadn't changed her clothing since he'd left... He wondered... He shook his head and glared up at the butterfly. We're even now. She echoed, and no sooner fled out the window.

It took a minute for him to catch on, but suddenly, things started clicking in the back of his mind. He looked down to Sarah, then out the window once more. So that's it then? He wondered, just now understanding Liana's purpose. Sarah was upset. And instead of dealing with it herself, she was offering him the chance to take care of it instead, in an effort to make up for her previous fault. His mouth formed a thin line as he glanced back down to Sarah, who was so lost in her own thoughts that she still hadn't noticed him standing right next to her. He hunkered down, and wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her up against his chest.

Sarah jumped at the surprise sensation of being engulfed. But she registered it was Jareth in an instant, and in her spite, tried jerking away from him. He sat on the floor next to her, and held her tighter, refusing to let go. She grunted, exasperatingly, and continued to struggle; only, as she squirmed, she was, in some backhanded effort, actually trying to turn herself towards him. She winced and whimpered before thrusting her face into his chest.

Jareth...didn't quite know what to do. For one, he had absolutely no idea why she was so upset. Hadn't she been enjoying their little game? She'd orgasmed twice! And she'd gotten her wish of getting rid of him! So why was she upset? And secondly, he couldn't quite grasp the fact that she wasn't fighting to get away from him now. What happened in the ten minutes he was away?

Her hands reached up and gripped the collar of his shirt as she nuzzled into him. She was shaking, her legs fidgeting under her as if holding back an excessive amount of energy that she didn't know what to do with. She was holding onto him, clinging desperately. And she shook her head from side to side, as if telling herself she would cry no more, but only caused herself to shed even more tears. He kept his arms around her, not sure what else to do.

"Sarah, why are you crying?" He asked. He felt a tremor shoot through her then, and she starting pulling on him haggardly, clawing for him as if she were being dragged away. Suddenly, she clenched her eyes shut and pressed the side of her face hard into his heart, and wrapped her arms around his torso as she hugged him for dear life. He felt himself tighten his grip on her, but only grew more and more perplexed. "Sarah? What's wrong?" He asked, with a sense of confused compassion that only made her cry harder. She started shaking her head viciously from side to side, pursing her lips to hold back a sob.

"You are such an asshole." She cried out, and with it came the cascade of tears and pity she'd been working so hard to keep in. She gripped him through the fabric of his shirt, holding onto him as she let herself go. She was shaking in his arms, and while normally, he would have made some rebut against her comment, it no longer seemed important. He tightened his arms around her, squeezing her to him, and kissed the top of her head.

Sarah cried with self-loathing, and shook with frustration as she sought out comfort from the one person who could reduce her to this very state. She didn't know why, but she was glad he came back. Why did he come back? It didn't matter. It didn't matter, because he was here now. She wasn't alone anymore.

She hugged him for all she was worth, letting out every ounce of torment and turmoil she had in her. It was as if everything, absolutely everything had been playing up to this moment. All her anger and confusion, her shame and animosity, it had all combined into one emotion, but she had no idea what it was. She hated him so much right now. She'd never hated him more. And yet, she clung to him, pleaded for him. She needed him. She needed him to hold her, to touch her. She needed to know that she wasn't alone. He was her rock, her constant. And so she clung to him, hating him just as much as she loved him. After all, he was all she had left.

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A/N - Whew! It's finally over. So...things are a little complicated, but I'll leave it to you to figure it all out on your own. I hope you enjoyed this, but regardless, I'd love to know what you think of it so far. I am, undoubtedly, a proud and self-proclaimed review whore. My next update will be for Dreams and Broken Things as it is, if you haven't already figured, drawing to a close. Once again, thanks for reading. See you next time!

-FGBX