"I wonder what your basis for comparison is…?"

The light around Sarah was fading; the visions were parting from her convulsing body and the Underground was seeping back into focus. The beast still stood before her; its yellow eyes beaming down at her as she lay bent over the rocks surrounding the pool, her arms flayed out behind her. She struggled to move. The voices still moved inside her head, but they had dimmed and were replaced by not only the frantic shouts of her name, but the sounds of – what Sarah recognised to be – an guttural language cursing at the beast before her. Before the curse could be finished, the gigantic beast reeled and dove back into the water, sending it spraying across the stones.

Someone was calling to her. "Sarah." A hand reached under her neck, and then under her knees and lifted her from the rocks. "Sarah." It called again, "Sarah, I command you to open your eyes."

Did she really need to guess who that someone was? Even with her eyes closed she could tell by the sound of his voice, the feel of his hands and overall bossiness of his tone. And somehow, and for some unknown reason, Sarah was happy to for it to be him. Opening her eyes she was greeted with by blonde spiky hair and concerned mismatched eyes. For a moment, all around them was still; the labyrinth itself was silent, the wind had ceased, and the bubbling of the water was all but mute, when they looked at each other. Sarah thought she saw a hint of relief, and something much more, lurking in the depths of those intriguing eyes…And then Jareth frowned profoundly.

"What the devil are you playing at?" he asked, running a hand through his spiky, damp hair. The beast must have got him when it dove back into the water. She opened her eyes fully at the tone, and the world zoomed back into focus. The first thing she realised was that she was lying in Jareth's lap, her head being cradled by his right arm. It seemed she had (involuntarily?) moved towards his warmth when he picked her up, as her body was pressed against his chest, urgently seeking his heat. Awkwardly, she tried to pull her tangled limps away from Jareth's embrace. He only held her firmly.

"Well, answer me!" he insisted, shaking her slightly. Her head bobbed and quickly, he realised what he was doing – perhaps she had a head injury? – he stopped, smoothed her head down with his free arm and cradled it like you would a new born. Every action was filled soft affection that Sarah didn't know or want to understand. Several hours ago, he had her swinging from the preverbal noose, and now he was cradling her like a child. Maybe it was just her throbbing head, or maybe it was the ongoing conflict between her head and the fluttering butterflies in her stomach, but Sarah was utterly confused.

"Lost your tongue?" he said, as she squinted up at him, dazed. "Well, let me fill you in. Firstly, you escape my dungeon – all with the help of your fox friend –" Sarah opened her mouth to defend Sir Didymus. He held up on long, gloved finger to silence her. Sarah's cheeks began to redden. "Secondly, you use my personal escapes tunnels. You coax my household staff to rally against me, and my wishes, in order to save yourself, not caring if you put them in harm's way or the Realm forbid, their king's wrath. You awake the damned púca –" He pronounced it 'poo-ka' which admittedly, made Sarah think of a small, fuzzy animal, not that mammoth beast. "And finally Sarah," he said, his voice losing its heated passion, "You utterly exhaust me."

At that, a smile grew across Sarah's face. And then it fell as familiar words wisped through her mind. I am exhausted from living up to your expectations… Sarah tried to speak, to have her say, but she saw the downcast shadow under Jareth's closed eyes and something, stupidly, made her raise her arm. Her hand moved to touch his pale cheek, to trace it with her finger tip, but his eyes flew open and he breathed deeply. Suddenly thinking better of it, Sarah quickly grasped the back of her head and rubbed her hand over her hair. What an awkward movement. Jareth watched briefly, a pained expression on his face, as she touched her head. He looked down and then frowned again. "What in the Realm's name are you wearing?"

Sarah looked down at her bare legs and naked toes. Her shirt was hitched up to an immodest level on her waist. The once pink flannel was now a mulled grey which dust, goo and all sorts was clinging to. She looked like a long lost, indecent, teddy bear. "My pyjamas," Sarah said as she watched Jareth's lip quirk. He was looking at her bare legs. Beads of water still clung to them and he watched with odd fascination as they drained down her calve and to stones below. Sarah felt fully exposed. But she didn't stop him. Not one bit.

"These pyjamas are very interesting. Do they always come with so little leg coverings?" he asked, intrigued.

"Not always." Sarah said, he cheeks flaming. She coughed and managed to carry on, "I lost my…er…leggings, in the tunnels. Some very sticky slime." Sarah wanted to rub her knees together, just for some movement. It was strangle having someone examine each part of her legs with their eyes.

Jareth's lip quirked again. "I am glad of it," he said, catching a bead of water with the tip of his finger. He traced the pattern it had left, up past her knee and towards the top of her thigh. Sarah wasn't sure if her mind had been addled by her previous encounter, but she didn't stop him. Her breath hitched at the touch, her mind shouting at her to push him away…not to get in too deep. Sarah didn't know why she was letting Jareth touch her so or why he was doing it in the first place. But she liked it. And didn't particularly want him to stop. If he moved his hand a little higher…

He stopped. Just below the rumpled hem.

His fingers played with the stray ends of the fabric. Sarah could hear the blood pumping in her ears, flaming straight into her already crimson cheeks. A warmth spread throughout her, waiting in anticipation for his next movement. But, he simply played with the hem, threading it through his fingers without hurry. The movement, as innocent as it was, still stirred something inside of Sarah.

"We must find you something new to wear," he said, not looking at her. He simply stared at the rough material.

"You're forgetting yourself, you majesty." Sarah didn't know what possessed her to say it, perhaps her muddled senses were focusing once again. But still, her eyes didn't move from where he played with the fabric. Nor did his.

"Oh really?" he said simply, purposefully tracing one finger under the hem, touching her bare thigh. "So pale," he commented, almost to himself.

"Yes," Sarah said, watching his features now, "You so such concern for a girl you were about to kill."

Jareth stirred slightly, but his hands remained. He pulled her closer, still fingers still transfixed by the dark fabric covering her pale skin. But his eyes moved to meet hers, and he leaned in. "I wasn't going to kill you."

That seemed to shock Sarah. She pulled back slightly, her hands pushing against his chest. And then, unexpectedly, she tenderly touched a lock of his hair and twirled it around her index finger. She watched him, looking for any indication that he was not comfortable with the tender touch. He didn't even blink. He studied her, mismatched eyes sweeping her face. "Then what were you going to do?" she said, surprised by how suggestive that came across.

Jareth smirked, tugging at the hem. "Make a deal."

In that moment, Sarah paled. Her skin prickled and felt numb, however, it did not numb the fevered sensation Jareth's touch lightened inside. Damn it. "As I recall, any deal with you come with a price." She pushed his hand away from her lap and tried to move from him. He only held her tighter. "I'm not interested."

"Sarah, you haven't even heard –" he began.

"I'm not interested, Jareth. Your last deal almost got me killed by your royal guards." Sarah slipped from his lap and stood, Jareth's hands trailing from her body as she straightened. "I intend to leave this place." Cautiously glancing at the carving in the waterfall, Sarah shuffled over to grab her cloak and tugged it around her body, not caring now if Jareth was looking or not. Though, the thought made her insides warm again.

Damn it.

Jareth was soon beside her as she tried to leave. He gently grabbed both of her forearms and brought her towards the waterfall again. His boots clicked softly on the ground as she guided her backwards and placed her in front of the bubbling pool. "Do you know what it was you awoke?" he said softly, trailing his hands around her covered arms as he took his position behind her. The intimate motion gave her goose bumps. Sarah was glad for the cloak now – it hid a multitude of sins. Where he had positioned her, she had an unblocked view of the waterfall again – and it's ever changing sculpture.

Jareth leaned forward, brushing aside a lock of her bedraggled hair and traced a vein in her neck towards her fast beating pulse point. "Do you know, Sarah?"

Sarah gulped and shook her head.

"Then let me enlighten you, dear," he said, brushing her pale throat with the back of his index finger, "I suppose you have never heard of a púca, even in the Upperworld they have tales of the creature." he said, repeating the word that before had given Sarah so much amusement, "It is a fairy, of sorts. You might have noticed how its form shifts and differs; well, my dear, it's a shape changer. However, it does for some unbeknown reason, prefer the guise of a horse." He snorted, seemingly unimpressed at the creatures choice of form. Rich, Sarah thought, coming from a man who liked to shift into an owl. She was sure the púca thought Jareth was likewise ridiculous for choosing an owl, as Jareth did for it choosing a horse. At that moment, a multitude of bubbles appeared in the pool. They seemed to vindicate her thought.

"It seems you've made it laugh," Jareth said, rather amused himself.

Sarah watched as the bubbles died away and then vanished completely. She peered into the pool with uncertainty, "If I make it laugh, why did it attack me?" she asked.

"The púca has its own reasons for what it does and doesn't do." Jareth trailed his hand down to her collarbone and hand one gloved thumb across the bony line. He was closer than she had realised; his other hand skirted around her waist under the cloak. His hair tickled her cheek for a brief moment, before he unexpectedly kissed the side of her pale neck, just above her clavicle. She could feel the smile spread across his face. She had not rejected him, instead she was quietly stunned. He spoke, breath caressing her skin, "It can easily switch between being benevolent and…mildly troublesome."

"Reminds me of someone," Sarah said with a hushed voice. She felt Jareth's breathy laugh on her neck and was surprised to find that she too was smiling. The first real, happy smile she had had with Jareth around. The moment was brief but intimate. Jareth let go, his hands detaching themselves smoothly as he backed away.

"It's the first time in over one of your Upperworld centuries that it has shown itself," Jareth said, as Sarah turned to look at him, the smile still lingering on both of their faces. "I was curious to know why; but now I have that answer." Jareth smiled again, but this time it was one of triumph. He was holding the lead-like strand of hair in between his hands. So the embrace was just to procure that particular item, she should have known. Inside, Sarah felt rather foolish. Not for the first time since she had arrived either. He moved forward slightly, his head cocked to one side like an inquisitive animal. "What did it show you, Sarah?"

"What has this got to do with your deal?" Sarah asked, bluntly. "It is a meaningless hair. Probably fell off the creature when it attacked me." She brushed aside the importance of the hair – she knew that Jareth knew far more than she did in these matters, but something told her that the hair was special.

"It is not meaningless, my dear Sarah. Nor did it attack you. It favoured you." He examined the hair in his hand and then handed back to Sarah. "Keep it, the púca does not do things accidently. Particularly when it comes to its hair."

Jareth made it seem like fashion conscious diva, not a powerful, mischievous creature. Regardless, Sarah took it quickly before he changed his mind and placed it in her cloak pocket again. Jareth watched her do so. He spoke again, "Be careful, Sarah. The púca is a being of both good and bad omens. It cannot be tamed by any creature, mortal or otherwise." He smiled, "This could be a very good omen for the Goblin Kingdom."

Or a very bad one, Sarah thought. She had seen the visions – twice now. Firstly in Jareth's orb and now with the sight of the púca. Sarah was starting to think that this was far deeper than a couple of bad Underground experiences. Perhaps Jareth's kitchen staff had been right in their delusion – Sarah was far more involved than she realised. She was supposed to be their saviour – but from what?

"I have a feeling, Jareth, that this has something to do with your deal. Am I correct?" Sarah asked.

Jareth smirked, "Aren't you always?"

Sarah couldn't help but smile back at the silly Goblin King, arms folded over her chest. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Very well," Jareth said, stepping two paces towards her. His urgency made Sarah jump slightly, her body wanted to retreat but her mind staying firm. She did not move when he came within reaching distance. Even if she did, she knew her legs would be hitting the rocks surrounding the pool. She was stuck between the two things that made her anxious; the lair of the creature that had potentially attacked her (benevolent or not!) and Jareth. She didn't know which was more frightening.

Probably Jareth.

He was dangerously close when he began speaking. All Sarah could think of was how his gloved fingers had traced her thighs, her skin, her collarbone. The images made her tingle.

"I think I have said once before that by taking back the child, ten years ago, you had weakened the boundary between the two realms?" He asked. Sarah nodded, trying to follow what he was leading to. "Well, that was not entirely true – it weakened the boundaries of all realms. Not just between the Upperworld and the Labyrinth. There are many realms within the Underground, but the Labyrinth was the epicentre. The weakness in the chain." He explained. "Do you understand?" He looked at her seriously, awaiting her answer.

"Yes," Sarah said, rather annoyed at the fact that he thought she was incapable of following him. "I understand perfectly: I defeated you, I weakened the boundary. Got it."

Jareth sighed, "You did not defeat me, at all."

Seriously, this again?

"I did," she said.

"Technicalities." he said, adamant.

Sarah rolled her eyes at him. He caught her and did the same. Sarah was already feeling so childish that she decided to stick her tongue out at him. Just to see what his reaction would be. She regretted it immediately. He rose one eyebrow and came closer, much closer. "And what, precious, will you do with that?" The tone of his voice made her suck her tongue back in and close her mouth. He smirked. "Perhaps we shall find out another time, then." He brushed a hand across her jawline making Sarah freeze. She was becoming irrationally flustered.

"So, weakened boundaries, threatened realms…" she prompted him, swallowing hard and tucking her arms so close to her chest than her hands slipped under her armpits.

"Precisely," he said, "you were listening." Sarah was about to interrupt, shout a comeback at him, but instead she stayed mute. Something told her that she needed to hear Jareth's story. So, she listened – a task she was quite capable of, even if Jareth didn't seem to think so.

He continued, "When you left, you tore that boundary almost to extinction. That action and my folly," he looked at Sarah with large knowing eyes – they both knew what Jareth's folly was, but now was not the time to bring that up – "has left all of the realm at risk of invasion and war. It was all brought about by one mortal child returning home a victor." Jareth kicked his boot against the rocks and sat down next to a standing Sarah. Sarah too sat, watching the Goblin King with worried yet curious eyes.

"And so where does this threat come from?" she asked, shrugging the cloak around her. "Surely not the Upperworld? They know nothing of this place."

"They do, but in old stories. Creatures in their various guises have been able to bridge the gap between the worlds – most of your myths and legends come from the Underground. Most but not all."

Sarah could recall when Jareth said he had been able to breach the boundary in owl form. But not in his true form…not without your help, of course.

"My summoning you, did that weaken the gap further?" she asked, worried that perhaps she had placed her friends in danger by accident.

Jareth sighed, his gloved hands clasped before him as he rested on his elbows, "No, it did not weaken the gap." Sarah felt like there was more to what Jareth was saying – as if it had not weakened the gap, but something else.

"Then, what is this threat you talk of?" she asked.

Jareth looked at her then, "It is a direct threat to the Goblin Kingdom, to its subjects and ultimately it's King." She knew he was assessing her response: did she care what happened to Jareth after everything he had done to her? She didn't know. Jareth continued, "Within the Underground, there is a magical body, a council of sorts, which is made up of each monarch from the neighbouring realms and its own administrators – the Realm of the Fays. The council works tirelessly to keep the realms in peace and balance."

Sarah understood, "And now, with the boundary weakened from within the Goblin Kingdom, the wrath of this council has turned towards you and your subjects."

Jareth nodded and then smiled lowly, "You are not a child anymore, Sarah Williams."

The statement had more to it than it seemed, Sarah thought. Somewhat embarrassed she pinched a loose piece of hair and tucked it behind her ear. "No, I am definitely not."

It seemed the strand didn't stay. Jareth reached out and tucked it firmly back into place. Sarah mouthed a 'Thank you' and smiled at her feet. Between them, an understanding was forming. Certainly not trust. Sarah didn't know if trust could ever form within between her and the Goblin King, but something had definitely shifted. Perhaps Jareth was not the cruel, evil Goblin King Sarah had thought him to be. Perhaps she had slightly misunderstood him?

"There is one thing I don't understand," Sarah said, watching as Jareth moved his eyes from the hair tucked behind her ear to her face, "Is why I am involved in this? Your people seem to think that I am their champion," Sarah said, remembering the word they had called her. "How can I be?"

Jareth tightened his jaw, "Those retainers should be flogged for their idle gossip." Sarah began to protest, but Jareth halted her with an arch of his eyebrow. And then he brushed his spiky hair to the side, "The people seem to think that if you were to voluntarily come back and join the Goblin Kingdom, you would restore the balance and end the war before it has even begun."

Sarah's mouth gapped slightly and then closed. She swallowed, "Jareth, you can't expect me to –"

"No, of course not," he said curtly, like he had already gone through the various outcomes in his head. Clearly none had planned out. "However, dear, diplomacy has failed me. When you summoned me, I was meeting with the Realm – the shouts of war had already begun."

He didn't need to explain further: Jareth had taken it into his own hands to bring Sarah here, knowing full well what the public would think, and under the illusion that she had done it out of freewill. Technically, she had come with him on her own accord. Saving her friends and family had been of utmost importance. But it was under false pretences. Had he ever truly threatened them? She was sure he had. Where they ever in danger of him? Probably not. But now, this had cast doubt into her mind as to whether his threats were real, or simply tactical.

Sarah stood and moved away from the sitting Goblin King, across to where she had first entered this part of the Labyrinth. All those things he had done, had they been to pray on her own illusion of him? To make her think that he was truly the devil she thought him to be?

Looking at Jareth now; he was exhausted, pale and near gaunt. Something had definitely changed in him, but she wasn't entirely clear how. She knew that he had and never could fully change – he was still impulsive, rash and quick to anger. In that moment, she wanted to know what he was thinking; why he hadn't been truthful from the beginning. If he had, would she have went with him as willingly? She doubted it. Her old illusion of Jareth was one of a spiteful, greedy Goblin King who had manipulated a young girl with his words, his being and those damn eyes of his. Even now he was watching her, trying to figure her out – just like she was doing to him. Now she knew why he wanted her, specifically. Sarah didn't dare think what else could have compelling him. He could never care for her, surely. It didn't seem reasonable. And all of his actions had pointed to the direct opposite: he had threatened her, drugged her, locked her up and thrown away the key. And yet, looking at him now, he didn't seem the same as that man. Which was silly.

"Why are you telling me this, Jareth?" she asked, her back turned slightly away from the Goblin King, but just enough to see him out of her peripheral vision. Perhaps Sarah's initial thoughts had been clouded, but Sarah wasn't a stupid girl. Yes, it wasn't as if Sarah had been overly kind to Jareth either. She had rejected him with such force that it propelled her back to her own world. If that wasn't cruel, Sarah didn't know what was. Since them she had treated him with unbidden contempt. And yes, she realised that Jareth wasn't someone to be defeated but understood. But perhaps, this too was a game…

How could she ever be sure?

Jareth looked at her, unblinking. "I want you to know the facts before we proceed."

Proceed onto what? Sarah thought, before realisation hit her. Sarah turned to face Jareth, her arms covering her chest. "Ah yes, a deal. So then, your majesty, what is your price?"

Jareth clicked his tongue, obviously irritated by her brisk tone. "No price. I swear."

For a minute, there was silence. The bubbling and splashing of the water could be heard, but the rest of the Labyrinth seemed utterly quiet. Sarah didn't even hear the scrambling voices of the Brick Keepers muddling their way through the Labyrinth. But then, perhaps there where only employed on running days. Sarah breathed and then tucked her cloak around her. She rubbed her arms around her body to warm them up. It was getting cooler in the Labyrinth. "I'm sorry, Jareth, but I don't believe you," she said, looking down at her bare, dust covered feet.

Jareth frowned. He stood to his full length. "There is no bargain. I'm simply offering you a choice, just like your friendly púca over there." He came closer. Too close. "You see Sarah, I have been left in a compromising position. I thought bringing you back here to the Labyrinth would calm the situation down. But, I did not foresee the effect it would have on my subjects…and more."

"What are you saying, Jareth?" Sarah asked as he paused.

Jareth sighed heavily and she watched visibly as his skin paled to an alarming grey colour and his hair grew lank. "If you wish to leave, you must leave now," he whispered. His eyes searching – almost pleadingly – Sarah's face. There were circles under his ethereal eyes, heavy and dark. Sarah wanted to smooth them with the pad of her thumb, taking away his pain. Something told her that this was Jareth at his most vulnerable. The idea hitched in her throat; the desperation in his eyes affected her greatly. He spoke again, his voice changing, becoming abrupt, "If not, I fear that my people's moral will break and war shall be unleashed on my land. I do not need further complications."

Business like. It sucked the remaining warmth right out of Sarah's already chilled limbs. Sarah returned the favour, "Then, show me the way, I shall leave you and this place."

Sarah tried to move, or at least she did in her head. Jareth was crowding her, blocking every possible exit. He had backed her against the labyrinth wall and she couldn't run. He loomed over her, unrelenting with his gaze. It stilled her. The look speared into her, making her spine tingle with apprehension. There was something dangerous about his stillness, a calming before the storm. Even his palled appearance made him seem hazardous – volatile and unexpected. Sarah waited for him to bubble over, to break. She tried and failed to calm her rapid rising and falling of her chest. The proximity to Jareth was forever unnerving to Sarah.

"It is not as simple as that," he said, almost menacingly, his breathe tingling her cheek. He leaned forward, pinning Sarah to the labyrinthine walls. His body bowed into hers, and his legs (and something far more troubling) pressed against her frame.

Sarah gulped.

The bushy hedgerow pressed into her already scraggy hair, as Jareth pinned her there. Her hands were stuck to her sides. She dared not move them for fear that they too would become prey to Jareth's entrapment. His face was remarkably close to hers, and she could feel the heat radiating off him, closing her in and filling the space around her. Without a thought, her dry lips parted and her tongue darted out to moisten the parched skin. Jareth practically growled. His hands travelled from the hedgerow and gripped firmly on her cloaked shoulders.

"This is no game, Sarah." Jareth said, his eyes hard as he smoothed his hands beneath the soft fabric. His hands wandered down her body again, touching all her soft curves. Sarah's gaze grew heavy and heated as his hands moved down her, appraising her.

"It's never that simple…" he said, murmuring to himself. Sarah didn't know how this had happened, and she wasn't thinking. His gloved hand reached her hip, teasing the skin there. And without thinking, she lifted her leg to circle Jareth's narrow frame. Taking that as a signal to continue, one hand travelled to skim around to the rounded flesh of her bottom. He squeezed it firmly, pushing her towards him. His hands traced her bare thigh, and Sarah shivered as his the cold fabric of his glove ran along her puckered skin. She watched him, as her leg wrapped around him locking him in their embrace, judging his expression. She knew she was biting her bottom lip, and that Jareth's eyes were locked on that abused, reddening piece of flesh. The change in his appearance was obvious: his hair was no longer as flat as it had been previously, the dark circles under his focused eyes were now a light grey and his skin was turning to it's normal, inhuman colouring – no doubt from arousal. Sarah liked the effect she was having on him; his touch was almost desperate, roaming and claiming at all the same time. He touched her as if she was a necessity to his being. Something tugged inside Sarah and fell away. As her leg locked around him, another growl rumbled from his chest and he reciprocated the possessive action by pressing against her lower back as he kissed and nipped at her exposed neck. Sarah curved happily into his embrace, taking everything he was willing to give. Soon, it was not only Jareth's hands that were wandering, but Sarah's. Tugging through his brightening hair, trailing down his solid shoulders and finally to his trouser waist band. Her fingers traced his waist line, wanting skin to skin contact. Jareth was nibbling on her neck, exposing her shoulder and most likely the plump flesh of her cleavage as he ravaged her soft skin. Sarah didn't care, she liked the rough feel of his starched shirt against her yielding flesh. The thought of being semi-naked and having Jareth fully clothed strangely excited her. But, she greedily wanted more. Sarah knew he was making his way towards her mouth, knowing she desperately wanted to be kissed. And to be kissed by him.

His lips were unyielding and soft against her skin, nipping and bruising their way to her awaiting, parched lips. Sarah swallowed, her throat dry with anticipation, as she pulled at Jareth's shirt. "It can be simple, Jareth," she said, pushing past the breathlessness in her voice, "This can be simple." Jareth's teeth grazed against jaw. She tugged at his shirt, wanted to feel his cool skin against her feverish body. Jareth barely acknowledged the action – far too busy distracting Sarah with small caresses. And then, he was there. His curved lips grazed hers for the briefest of moments, then drew back. Sarah smiled slightly, her fingertips travelling up his shirt. She barely brushed against his stomach, when she thrown back into the hedgerow. Sarah's back slammed against the half wall and her hair tangled in the bush. The force knocked most of the wind out of her lungs, and she watched with bleary eyes that Jareth was before her, some steps away from her winded self, was breathing hard and trying to compose himself.

She didn't realise how much she was shaking. Her knees felt weak and heavy, like something had been sapped out of her by the simple touch. Drained. Managing to life her head, she looked at Jareth's form. He was standing up right, his back to her, ignoring her completely. Red of shame and embarrassment hit her deep in the pit of her stomach. Why had pulled away from her? She watched as he then prowled away from her, his hands on his narrow hips as he paced. He looked distressed.

Sod, him. Sarah was distressed. Mortified even. She had just been about to surrender everything to Jareth and he had…shoved her away! Emotions conflicted inside of her. Sarah wanted to scream, to argue, but there was the abject feeling of rejection gnawing inside of her. Unshed tears stung at the corners of her eyes. And she felt almost faint. Sarah opened her mouth, a question forming on her untouched lips. Jareth craned his neck to look at her as she sucked in the clear, watery air around her. She stopped. Bit her lip shut. Loathing was evident in that stare. Sarah's cheeks reddened with pure, undiluted embarrassment and she turned away from him.

"Cover yourself," he muttered, disgusted, as she strode away from her, his hands running through his hair.

Sarah looked down at her abandoned body: her buttons were open, one smooth curve of her left breast was exposed, as well as her entire shoulder. Weakly, she moved from her spot, and began to button herself up, wrapping the cloak around her when she finished. She wanted to crumble to the floor and be done with it, but even with Jareth's indifference to her, she knew she couldn't – she wouldn't show weakness in front of him.

Sarah had no clue how she had been cast aside. Before, Jareth had wanted her like she was the very air in his lungs and now he had spurned her. Perhaps she had been getting too close? But that was silly, it had been Jareth who had started it with the simple touch of her leg, and the toying of her hem. He had started it, and well, he had finished it. Even now, Jareth was still pacing, watching with contempt out of the corner of his eye. He was muttering to himself. Sarah wanted answers, even with her dejection. Perhaps if she could just touch him again, then everything would be fine? She took a brave step forward, her weight pushing off from the wall behind her. But like she had predicted, Sarah's knees gave way and she fell onto the stones below her. Her hands caught her just in time that her head didn't smash onto the floor. Before she could even move, Sarah could feel the stinging on her grazed hands. Little drops of blood were left of the stones when she surveyed the damage.

"For realm's sake," she heard Jareth say, as he moved towards her, pulling her up roughly under her arm. Fatigue and numbness made her floppy, hard to move, but he managed to pull her up right. "Can you, not for five minutes, ever stay standing straight, Sarah."

She felt woozy. And nauseous. Very nauseous. Something's wrong. Sarah wasn't sure if she had muttered it out loud or simply in her head. She clung to her sides trying to steady herself as Jareth hauled her roughly and unceremoniously to her feet. She tried to cling to him, just to gain a semblance of balance, but he wasn't having it. As soon as she was on her feet – steady or not – he withdrew from her, quickly and efficiently, as if she had the plague.

Jareth stared simply down at the ground while Sarah straightened herself. Bile threatened to rise and Sarah tried to hold the building feeling of nausea inside. The threat passed and she opened her mouth slightly, ready to confront him. Instead, she was stopped by his expression. His features were schooled into something on the borderline of indifference, almost as if he wasn't really paying attention to his current surroundings. He abruptly swiveled to her and took her loose hand in his gloved grip. "Come. We have been summoned." It was all he said before he began tugging her along and through the pathways of the Labyrinth.


A/N: Hello…Anyone there? Sorry that this was sooooo unbelievably late. I have been (and still am) incredibly busy with moving, exams, life in general and some other terribly boring things. So, I hope you forgive me for the delay. I just couldn't get the flow for this particular chapter, but I think I got it now and I'm happy with where the plot is going now. I don't know when the next chapter will be updated, but it will get updated eventually. So I hope there's still some who still follow this story! Please don't give up on it!