disclaimer: no. I don't own it

rating: T for now...

note: " OMG, its been like a month since I last updated! Wow, I've been busy as hell… I miss being able to write every night. I love writing this story soooo much." -Starchip13

yeah...ditto. .'

oh, and anything that seems familiar...many ideas were taken from the works of Holly Black. I love that woman (like a sister) 3

Corner

Sarah wasn't sure what was more dizzying, his constant circling, or the wild scent of him. She flushed, mortified at her own fixation with a madman...though if there was ever a fine specimen with which to be obsessed with, he would definitely be it.

More disturbing still was the triumphant smile on his face, warning her that he would surely press his advantage... Not that she had expected him not to. He stopped, which gained her attention, no doubt just as he had intended. His face held her eyes however...she couldn't look away. He looked better, it seemed...had Lenam been right? He smirked, and she forced a scowl.

"Well...I believe we should start with...why exactly didn't you throw a hissy fit , hmm? And demand my dear sister take you back?" His voice was smooth, not so much teasing as curious. It was designed to soothe her nerves, perhaps. It didn't work; she struggled with her disobedient tongue once more, finally managing to close her jaws tight with and audible snap. He must have heard it, for when he looked at her again, his mismatched eyes were full of mischief. Previously his head had been the only thing turned towards her, but now he turned to face her completely, stalking forward. Sarah snapped her eyes shut, afraid despite her best efforts. Her head jerked when his leather glove traced her jaw.

Her eyes were open as fast as they had closed, and her heart in her ribs felt like a hawk in a wire cage. His face was close to hers.

"Come now Sarah---what have I to gain from such question? Or, perhaps the better question, from your answer?" She bit her lip, but the words spilled out anyway.

"I was—curious. I wanted to know if you had changed at all...if it was perhaps my frivolous little girl self that had made you seem s--" she stopped, clamping her mouth shut again, her cheeks almost scarlet. He grinned, as if he had guessed her next word. He didn't move away, and she saw it as pointless to try and escape. His nearness was turning her brain foggy, but it was strangely euphoric.

"And am I?" He inquired, and she blinked.

"I'm sorry what?" He grinned at her wolfishly.

"Am I the same, Sarah?" She shivered as he spoke her name. He made it sound like an intimate gesture in and of itself. She shook her head to clear it.

"Yes."

"And did you wish I would change Sarah? When I was gone from your sight?" He turned away. Her breath caught at the wist in his voice. She didn't understand this man...no, not man...this...creature? What could she call this being that had once claimed to love her? He was a man and yet not, but he was by no means a beast. At least not entirely, she didn't think. Licking her lips, she found the courage to move just close enough that she wouldn't have to yell (he had moved rather far). She cleared her throat, her lips trembling over the words.

"Perhaps then, at fourteen, I would have changed you. But I have grown enough to realize that..." she swallowed. "Some things are more beautiful for all their wildness." He stood still, but she was certain he had heard her. She thought perhaps now he might gloat, or steal a ravenous kiss (a though that was not as frightening as it should be...). But he did neither. He heaved a sigh instead, turning back to give her an enigmatic smile.

"You should rest. Lenam should be out there eavesdropping..." he drawled the second sentence, tossing the door a sarcastic smile. "So she'll be able to take you to suitable rooms." Sarah blinked at him for a minute, unsure of what to make of his response to her words. Taking a breath, she shuffled out the door, backwards, her eyes never leaving his.

Jareth stood in the middle of the room, where she had left him. He was bewildered by her words, or rather the very last ones. She had said...he was beautiful? And wild, but that he could understand. They were only words, however poetic, so why did they warm his blood? And the way they were said...he knew she was afraid of him. She knew she couldn't lie, so why had she bothered to say anything at all? It did and didn't make sense, depending upon the angle you viewed the scenario from. If he saw the ideal angle, it made perfect sense, but alas, nothing was ever ideal.

He wasn't sure what he wanted it to mean, but still it had moved him. Was this love again? Another facet of the mysterious stirring he felt for her? And for her to think him beautiful...was it only fascination? Could he make it more? Those words, coming from her lips, had felt like a confession of love, though that was ridiculous. Wasn't it?

He slumped into his throne, resolving to overthink it. It might be obsessive, but it would make him feel a heap better.

Sarah gaped at the room Lenam had led her to. Suitable? They were amazing. She tried to ask Lenam what his rooms were like if this was she was to be sleeping in, but Lenam was distracted. She smiled apologetically at her friend.

"I'm sorry Sarah---but I really do need to speak to my brother---"

"Why? Are you still in trouble?"

"No—it's just a trivial matter, really."

"Oh. Okay--" Lenam smiled again, leaving the sumptuous room. She made her way back to the throne room. It was an altogether bad idea to bother her brother in the midst of his brooding, but she didn't care a whit. She was nothing if curious, and she needed some serious background info for her schemes to work. She opened the doors without invitation, unphased by his intense scowl.

"There now. Now you don't have to marry some witless twit from the Seelie courts, you can just---"

"This solves nothing, Lenamara. I'll have to marry one of them if I'm to have heirs. You said yourself you didn't want the crown, don't you want to avoid it?" His voice was hollow, and he leveled a look at her that suggested the matter was over. That only served to make her more curious. She planted her hands on her hips, her head tipping to the side in a questioning gesture. He heaved a sigh, knowing this was inevitable.

"What did she say? Tell me Jareth."

"Lenam, please--"

"It's an innocent question dearthair." They stared each other down for a few seconds, before he shook his head.

"She is...fascinated by me. I think. I don't know deirfiur. She confuses me to no end." He snapped up, pacing across the floor. Her brows shot up in surprise. Her brother talked to her far more personally than most everyone, but it was rare to see him this confused about anything, let alone admit it.

"You really...love her?" She examined her brother. Unlike humans, the fey, every single one, considered love sacred. It was, however for more rare here, where customs bound many, and some were questionably incapable of it. She caught her brother's eyes, seeing many emotions there. But had she seen love, she would not have known it by sight. She understood her brother's desperation, possibly better than he.

Their father had been an absolute rake, and she was technically illegitimate. (though Jareth would hang the hob that so much as thought to say as much) She remembered that her mother had felt that rare touch, she had seen the desperate pain every time her father left to return to his wife. Jareth did not look half so pained, but she felt the echo of atmosphere that suggested that she was right. He grumbled.

"And if I do? You've heard the trolls sigh it at their human friends...such strange things, trolls...or in Ravus's case, his lover. 'Gone in one faerie sigh' all of them say, and it's truth. I'll have her like one has smoke, or a butterfly. A brief joy then--" he snapped his jaw shut, and she knew he was embarrassed, despite the lack of a blush.

"Then I'll make her like us."

"You can't. Lenam, that's ridiculous."

"And why can't I?" She raised her brows, crossing her thin arms. "If the troll's fruit can make her seem like one of us, surely there's a permanent way to do it." she paused, her slim hand combing through her hair as she schemed. "I know! I'll ask the áilleacht!" she clapped her hands together. Jareth paled, unable to stop her as she ran out of the hall. But as worried as he was, he was not half so worried as the one who had been listening.

An: sorry guys, I've been so busy with senior crap. Feel free to yell at me.

Oh and, the foreign stuff...it's gaelic. In my story, this used to be the only language Jareth and Lenam had in common.

Translations:

dearthair-brother

deirfiur- sister

áilleacht- the beauty. (you'll see .)