Chapter Twelve: The Queen of Statues

He honestly had no idea what had first alerted him to Vanity's presence. The thunder of her hooves on his stone floor, or the wailing banshee scream tearing from her throat as she ran at him. What ever he noticed first it certainly got his attention and held it. He did not panic; he did not even attempt to come up with a battle plan. Instead the Goblin King casually stood his ground and raised an eyebrow at the charging Satyr. That in itself would have warned off most adversaries. Not Vanity. She was insane enough to stay her course and incensed enough to not care. Her tiny hands outstretched like vultures claws. A band of green leather straining against her slender neck.

He didn't bother letting the collar kick in. The second she got into arms reach, he snatched her wrist and used her own momentum to lift her from her hoofs and send her hurtling into the very close wall. She didn't cry out in pain, her tolerance was too high for her to do that so lightly. But she did hit her head sufficiently enough to make her climb to her cloven hoofs a slow one. "I don't advise wasting your time and mine on another attack Vanity. Even if you hit home it won't benefit you."

"I'm going to fucking rip you limb from limb you whore shagging cunt!" Her voice was a low and deadly travesty of innocence.

"To be honest I would have liked to see you try that even without your collar," was his almost drab reply. He had no wish to spend any time in her company. "Now, do I have to throw you at another wall or are you going to attempt civility? And I assure you I will not be so gentle the next time I need to raise my hand to you."

"I don't think so. You see Jareth, even though you're a cock sucking pile of shit, I know you never hit women unless you have to." At that he rolled his eyes, he really should have added a little something to force her to cut down on her obscenities so he could have watched her fumble for alternatives. "So, you cum swallowing fuck wit, I don't think I will be civil." He took one measured breath. Then she was on the floor again after a rapid back handed blow from him.

"When will you learn that I consider you bellow contempt and so injuring you would never weigh on my conscience, so I don't hesitate to do so? Though I do recommend not pushing your luck with that collar, even you wouldn't be able to handle the pain."

Then he did the worst thing to Vanity he had ever done. He turned his back to her and began to walk away.

"Going to toss off over your Sylph wench?! She brings a whole new meaning to the phrase doggy style!" He ignored her and continued walking. She would hate him for not paying her attention far more than if he turned to strike her again. Vanity always brought out the worst in him.

Why was it so bloody difficult to find something to wear?! She had gone through everything in her wardrobe, twice! Yet there was nothing, except for the black dress she had worn for her family's funeral, that could even come close to being posh enough to fit in with the crowd in the kind of restaurant that Jareth was going to take her to. She was close to screaming. And it was twenty five past seven! Jareth was going to be there in five minutes! This was ridiculous! Oh what was she going to do? She hadn't even started on her make up and hair yet! And-

"Bloody hell!" And again with the random glowing! Why her? That was all she wanted to know. She had been glowing on and off since she had gotten back from the Underground. It was actually starting to get very annoying. Soft pink petals quickly fluttered into existence across her body. Pressing against her skin, melting and melding into soft, silk like fabric with patches of strong and pale pink, almost white. Then eventually she was wearing a knee length, off the shoulder dress that was perfectly fitted to her body and "Cleavage! What is it with indecent cleavage and magic?!" Other than that, the dress was rather beautiful and somehow quite classy despite it being made of motley patches of pink. She was wearing shoes as well; again silk like, only these were constant in their colour. She wasn't entirely sure if she trusted the two inch heals on them considering they were made entirely of flower petals.

With a sigh and shaking her head, Sarah strode across her bedroom to the mirror on her vanity table to try and get a look at herself, which was easier said than done with a mirror that started at hip level and stopped at her shoulders. She would just have to go on good faith when it came to her legs. Once she was standing before the impractical mirror she realised this dress didn't simply show of her cleavage. It shamelessly flaunted her figure, clinging in a somehow sophisticated way to her moderate curves. Showing her she didn't simply look classy, but very sexy. Unsurprisingly her jaw hung open as she gaped at herself in the mirror. She hadn't even realised that she could look sexy! Yes Jareth had told her that she had looked sexy in what she had been wearing to break Vanity out of prison, but she had never actually seen it for herself. In disbelief, her hands rose to her waist, her fingers skimming over the soft fabric in an attempt to prove to herself that what she was seeing was real. With a shake of her head and biting her lip, she crouched down, needing to see her face to know she was truly looking at her own reflection.

The first thing she noticed was that her hair had been styled during her little burst of magic. It still looked casual, but it has somehow become that little more voluminous. Then her eyes drank in the rest of her face. Her lips had been pinked and her eyes were surrounded in smoky make up that contrasted brilliantly with everything else about her appearance. When had she gone from being a scrawny teenager to being a gorgeous young woman? It simply didn't make sense to her. She had never been particularly popular with boys and she wasn't ashamed to admit that at twenty three she was still a virgin. Sarah was no prude, she just hadn't come across any man willing to try and force away her depression in order to have a relationship with her. She had kissed and gone a little further than that, but once her family had died any attention a boy might have given her had been warned away by her icy demeanour. Truth be told it really hadn't occurred to her that when Jareth had been complimenting her he had been honest.

A knock on her door snatched her from her almost startled revelation. A smile found her lips. That should be Jareth. Forcing herself to walk rather than run, Sarah made the short trip out of her bedroom and to the front door. Her hand rested on the handle as she took a deep breath in a vain attempt at calming herself. Then, a warm smile on her lips, she opened the door to the Goblin King. The single red rose he held nearly fell from his grasp when his mismatched eyes landed on her.

Gods, even though it had only been a few days, she had forgotten just how oddly human he looked wearing glasses. Truth be told she had almost forgotten he needed glasses in the first place. Yet, despite the human edge they gave him, they didn't make him look weak. Instead they lent an odd sort of intelligent deviance to his blue and brown eyes. As always he was dressed absolutely immaculately, though he seemed to have tried to add a little colour to what he wore this time. Though whether an almost black, dark blue shirt counted as colour she couldn't say. Especially since his jacket and trousers were black and the slight colour of his shirt could almost go unnoticed. He stood there, at her door, the rose limp in his hands, drinking in her appearance as his lips tried in vain to find sound.

"What would your subjects say if they could see you lost for words?" she teased lightly, finally snapping him out of his revere.

"About bloody time most likely. You look," and there his words dried up yet again as his eyes roamed her form and face. Eventually he gave up with an overdramatic sigh. "Absolutely stunning and that has to be one of the biggest understatements I have uttered in the last fourteen centuries. You look like a true Sylph Noble woman, dressed for court." Heat rose in Sarah's cheeks and she felt her stomach twist wonderfully. Sure she was blushing hideously; she allowed a full smile to find her lips. "And you're smiling properly as well."

"What?" she asked, confusion glimmering in her voice.

"When you first came into my shop when ever you smiled it wasn't a real smile. It was like you smiled because you knew it was expected. But now, now you are smiling for real. You've healed." Simple words. You've healed. Nothing flowery or overly grand. Simple words for a simple fact.

"I," Sarah found herself starting hesitantly. "I believe I have. I'll just get my keys and my bag. I won't be a minute."

Crystal moon he had never seen a creature so stunning in his sixteen centuries of life. True, she was not the most beautiful woman he had ever come across, but she more than compensated for that with her mind, her poise and everything else that made her so wonderfully natural and stunning. She was simply herself and, judging from this badly maintained corridor with it's peeling wallpaper and stained carpet, she was the rose amongst the slime infested rubble.

It didn't take her long to return, clutching a small bag that obviously didn't match her dress. For some reason it was oddly refreshing that she genuinely didn't seem to care. Her hands were quick in locking her door and she was soon facing him with those amazing grey eyes staring right into his own mismatched eyes, biting her lip with a smile. With an almost lazy motion, Jareth reached up and pushed his glasses back to their appropriate place.

"Well my Lady," he said with an exaggerated flourish, offering his arm to her. "Our table awaits." Lightly, she placed her hand on his for arm after putting her bag over her free shoulder. But after less than a second she slipped her hand down his arm to his own hand and entwined their fingers, blushing as she did so.

"Then lead the way good Sir." It was so good to be able to feel her skin against his, even if was only their hands. And even better, she had initiated it. That simple fact started an odd and pleasant warm glow burning in his stomach. It almost rendered him speechless again. So, offering her the rose and giving her hand a reassuring squeeze to show he wasn't about to reject her any time soon, he began to lead her out of the apartment block. She accepted the rose with a wide, girlish grin and a pinkish glow on her cheeks, allowing him to escort her.

Jareth kept the conversation as light as he could as they walked through the streets and made sure to flatter her at every opportunity. Sarah being Sarah of course, rose to the challenge fearlessly and rather blatantly flirted back, though she couldn't keep herself from blushing at his compliments. In his opinion the walk didn't last anywhere near long enough. As was often the case, slums shared a doorstep with high society, though it was rare the high society side noticed that. The people from that place tended to wrap themselves in a little secure bubble that stopped them from noticing who their next door neighbour really was.

At roughly quarter to eight they reached the restaurant and Sarah's eyes widened. Though not in joy as he had hoped. It didn't take her long to crush the sheer horror he had seen there and turn a cheery smile in his direction. She was trying not to hurt his feeling but he could easily see that this was somewhere she really didn't want to be. He couldn't see why she was so disappointed. It wasn't the most expensive place in the area, but it was the best. The decorations were classy and elegant; every table had a crisp white cloth over it and was set with silver cutlery and crystal wine glasses. The floor to ceiling windows easily showed the warm lighting and smartly dressed waiters and waitresses.

"Wow," she said to him with false breathless enthusiasm as disappointment at her reaction and joy at her attempt not to hurt him battled supremacy. "When you said expensive I didn't think you meant this expensive. Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Ah, so that's the problem, Jareth noted as he saw exactly where her eyes kept flicking to. The other customers. All rich, all perfectly dressed in the latest fashion with the woman dripping in diamonds. She felt uncomfortable pretending to be one of them.

"Oh, I don't know," was her weak reply as he guided her through the door with his hand on the small of her back. A slick but portly doorman greeted them. A slightly wider smile on his face than was strictly necessary when his large friendly eyes took in Sarah's attire.

"Do you have a reservation sir? Madame?"

"Yes, we do." For some reason Jareth found his arm snaking around Sarah waist, though whether it was out of affection or possessiveness he honestly couldn't say.

"Name?" he asked politely, looking to the open book on the hip high pedestal.

"Faedon."

"Very good, follow me please."

Sarah's eyes were fixed on the plush carpet as they were lead through the restaurant. Jareth however was quite pleased to note the seething jealously that found its home in the eyes of the painfully thin women, and in the subtle lingering looks that the men where giving his date. Their table was small, square and secluded. Away from the window as he had asked. He didn't want his date day dreaming on him tonight. He beat the doorman to pulling out her seat and she blushed as she took it. They were handed menus as he took his own seat and the doorman hurried off. Biting her lip, a little harder than she usually did from the look of it, she opened the menu, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on it.

"Come on, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied lightly. Unconvincingly.

"My dear Lady, you look distinctly uncomfortable. I'm simply asking why." She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a deep breath.

"I don't belong here." Her eyes opened and turned to him, allowing the discomfort she felt shine through for him to see. And its depths were as immense as the sea he had dropped them into. "Look at the women here. They're all elegant. They were probably born into this kind of life. All the ones that aren't fifty plus are absolutely beautiful and perfectly groomed in the latest fashion and dripping in the most expensive jewellery. And the older women? Ruthless business women who know that to look good they have to look powerful. Then look at me. I'm a barmaid in a dress I literally accidentally conjured up."

He sat, looking at her for a moment. Then let his eyes slide around the room. He knew exactly how to deal with this little problem. "You see that man over there? The one with the green shirt? He has spent the last thirty seconds staring at those wonderful legs of yours while his girlfriend has been eying your dress, obviously looking for some sort of label." She glanced to the couple he had gestured to and instantly began to blush. "And the couple behind you. The woman, one of those old business women you mentioned, keeps looking at you with this little nostalgic glint to her eyes and I can tell from her facial structure that she used to look quite a bit like you, and from the way she keeps glancing at me I'm guessing she now wishes she had focussed on other things in her life. There's no ring on her finger and she sat with a woman who looks like her mother." He turned his eyes back to her. "The women in this place are insanely jealous of the way you look and the way you hold yourself. And I'd say the men are rather jealous of me at the moment since they keep staring at you, if they had any less control over themselves I would say they would quite likely be drooling." At that she gave an adorable half giggle. But he still see she felt uncomfortable.

"When I was younger, and I'm talking about until I was about five hundred years old and still the Undergrounds biggest slag, I used to see these type of women as easy prey. Rather inane but at least they would know what they were doing once I got them into bed and they looked good as well. But honestly the only thing they were good for was an easy lay. They thought they were witty and charming and the most beautiful women in the Underground. They weren't. They were dull, vapid and vain. You however, are intelligent, brave, strong, interesting and not to mention a Queen." Her eyes widened at that.

"I'm not-"

"Actually you are," he interrupted casually. "There is active royal blood running through your veins and as the only surviving Royal Sylph, by the law of the Underground you are the Sylph Queen." He smiled at the frown on her brow. "Queen over a realm of statues."

"Statues? I thought you said all the Sylph were dead?"

"Technically I suppose they are. When they created the barrier they put so much of themselves into it that they turned in to crystal. Really they're not dead, but they aren't exactly alive either. Any way, enough about all of this. We're here to have fun." Her back was straight now, her eyes unashamed of herself now as they turned back to the menu. He followed her example, hoping to find something that wasn't some weird culinary experiment. Perhaps it was the soldier in him, but he preferred more simple foods.

"I wonder what Auranar would say if he had heard that cascade of flattery," she said sweetly with a wicked little smile as she looked to his over the top of her menu.

"His mouth most likely wouldn't have much to say but I'm sure his fists would."

"I'll have to make sure I don't say anything to him then." Unfortunately the mischievous glint in her eyes said otherwise.

A short but pretty waitress took their order with a smile and they descended deep into pleasant conversation once again. Somehow, he wasn't actually sure how, Jareth ended up holding Sarah's hands in the centre of the table. If you had asked what they had been talking about, he honestly couldn't tell you. It wasn't the kind of thing that stayed with you for longer than it was said. But if someone had asked him how Sarah had reacted he could have told them every smile and how it had made her eyes light with warmth, how, over the course of the meal and the glass or so of wine they each had, she slowly started to look at him her own, not quite so puppy eyes version of adoration. In fact she seemed almost challenging, baiting him even. He could have perfectly described the way her hair bobbed when she moved her head to the side. He could have picked out the exact shade of pinkish red that her cheeks turned when she blushed at something he said. She ate oddly delicately, with absolutely impeccable manners. Yet the food didn't stop them from talking, it slowed it down perhaps but it didn't stop them.

The bland stars of the Upperground were hidden behind thick, threatening clouds, along with the moon when they left the restaurant after Sarah had shown exactly how horrified she was at how much the meal cost by the slight widening of her eyes. Not exactly what he had pictured for walking Sarah home, he had been hoping for a clear night, but then nature has a way of not bowing to the wishes of creatures, no matter what the species. He didn't dwell on it though. Oddly enough Jareth was more interested in the fact that his arm was around her waist as they walked and Sarah was doing nothing to remove it. In fact she seemed to have moved closer to him once his hand was in place.

Was this a dream? He had waited so long for her to be this warm towards him that now she was he wasn't entirely sure if it was real. Yet there she was, with her own arm finding its way around him, under his jacket, as she smiled up at him still holding the rose he had given her almost three hours ago.

"You remember when you were a girl and I offered you your dreams?" Jareth asked, attempting to keep the curiosity in his voice casual, though he wasn't entirely certain he succeeded.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"What exactly was I offering you?"

"You mean you didn't know?!" The horrified astonishment in her wide grey green eyes shone through as brightly and as brilliantly as any sun he had ever seen.

"I guessed," he confessed, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. "But I was never entirely certain. Actually now I think about it offering you your dreams is most likely one of the most utterly stupid things I've ever done."

"Yes it was. My dreams then were bloody extensive. I dreamt of being a proud warrior one night. Then the next I was an actress like my mother. The next I was a doctor and the night after that I was an explorer. It would have been impossible for you to keep up."

"Oh really," he replied playfully as he pulled her to a stop and tugged her against his chest with a cocky smirk on his lips. Though it flickered slightly when he realise with a start that they were very nearly the same height. True she had a little help from her shoes, but even if she had been bare foot she would have only been two inches shorter than him. Odd, he had never been attracted to a tall woman before. Even in this she was so totally different from the type of woman he usually went for.

"Yes, really." Mischief now reined supreme in her features and she brought up her arms to wrap them around his neck and bring him that little bit closer to her. He was overly thankful that they were on that awkward little overlap where rich met poor and the street never seemed to be un-cracked or used.

"And what do you dream of now?" Jareth found himself asking huskily, even though he knew the answer would be having her book published.

"Jareth," was Sarah's purred reply. The silk in her voice would have made him weak at the knees had he not had so much well trained control over his body. "You of all people should know that I don't dream. My night time wanderings are through your memory, so I know exactly how much of a whore you were in your youth."

"Ah." He gave an awkward cough. It was bad enough having someone he was interested knowing the first centimetre of that particular icebergs tip, unfortunately it seemed that Sarah knew a hell of a lot more than that. "I actually prefer the term slag. Whore implies I was getting paid, when really I was quite happy to act that way for free." His breath hitched in his throat as she leaned that little bit closer. He could feel her pleasantly warm breath tickling his skin now. He swallowed, hard, as everything around them seemed to fall out focus. He didn't see the disused railway bridge behind them. He didn't see the row of street lights. He didn't see the expensive furniture shop next door to the boarded up building they stood beside. What he did see was her smooth skin, glowing slightly in response to the sparse moon light. Her plump pink lips, posed into an inviting slight smile. Her almost luminescent half closed eyes that gazed hazily back into his. Her proud pointed nose that had the tiniest little bump in its bridge, adding to the character of her stunning face. "What do you think you would dream about if it weren't for my Labyrinth?" It was a conscious effort to stop his voice from shaking and a far stronger effort to stop himself from absolutely ravishing those perfect lips of hers.

Her smile widened slightly and she bit her bottom lip, only for it to slide out of the grip her teeth had on it. Slowly, hesitantly, Sarah began to lean her face towards his. It took less time than a glance for him to follow her example.

Rain drummed down so fast and hard that Jareth was almost convinced someone had thrown a very cold bucket of water at them. Their heads snapped apart the tiniest moment before their lips could meet and their eyes turned to the clouds above. Snatching Sarah's hand, Jareth ran to the bridge, pulling the semi-Sylph with him. She was laughing, actually laughing! He couldn't help but smile at the sound even as they were rapidly getting soaked. Finally they dashed under the bridge, out of the sudden, heavy rain.

With his free hand, the Goblin King ran his hand over his hair in an attempt to stop the water using his fringe to drip into his eyes. He could barely see thank to the droplets on his glasses so he took the irritating things off and attempted to dry them on his shirt. Needless to say he wasn't very successful, though he could see a little better when he returned them to their appropriate place. At least he wasn't the only one that was soaking.

He turned his eyes back to Sarah with a smile on his face. She was just less than hopelessly blurred, but he didn't care as he firmly wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. She didn't resist and her arms were soon around his neck again. "Where were we?" he asked smugly, a smirk on his lips as he looked to the greenish patches on her face that he assumed were her eyes.

"We were deciding who was going to kiss who first," was her oddly matter of fact yet flirting reply.

"So we were." He began to close the gap between them yet again, hardly believing that this could really be happening.

His eyes widened as a dark blur dashed towards them. "Get down!" He cried, sending them both crashing to the concrete ground. The sound of beating wings pounding past over them.

A/N Thank you to sweetbaby33 and notwritten for reviewing chapter eleven.

Now I would like to point something out.

Hits to that chapter - 191

Reviews - 2

Can anyone see my problem there? Now that I've highlighted that I would quite like to know what was so bad about that chapter that I slaved over and struggled to fit in amongst all the revision I've been having to do lately. Is it just that people don't realise how difficult it is to both write something you don't really identify with (het is not my forte since my interest in the males of the species is minimal) and find the time to write something? Or was chapter eleven truly abysmal? Take the chance to let me know now so that I know if I'm just wasting my time continuing with this story.

That said, please review to let me know what you think. I know I've said this before but I really do appreciate it.