Chapter Twenty-Eight: Reflections.

"You really have nothing to be so embarrassed about Sarah," Jareth said from behind her somewhere.

Sarah's hands covered her face, hiding its newly acquired tomato-red complexion. "My little brother just saw me being molested by my boyfriend; I think I've moved beyond embarrassed and entered the realm of mortified," she groaned out from behind her fingers.

Jareth snorted, ruffling the hair at the back of her neck and causing her to shiver involuntarily. "It is the duty of younger siblings everywhere to walk in on their elders at the most inopportune times," he stated, stretched languidly and then sat up, bringing her with him. "It's for the best, I suppose," he lamented, resting his chin in the crook of her shoulder, "there wouldn't have been enough time for either of us to enjoy ourselves properly."

Sarah, who had nearly calmed down enough to uncover her face, let out a startled squeak. "Don't say things like that!" she commanded in an uncomfortable tone. What he was suggesting… it was just…

Embarrassing? Ludicrous? Something that her hereto-undiscovered libido was begging for rather insistently?

From the moment that she had met him, Jareth had set Sarah on edge, and it wasn't entirely due to the fact that he had kidnapped her brother. A dark air surrounded him, demanding attention. It was the sort of resonance that warned her of danger, a deadly temper that could spend years inflicting torture and never be satisfied; and yet at the same time it called to something within her, promising hours of devious pleasure if she would just play along. Even at fifteen she had felt the pull of his sexual appeal, and it had frightened her. Though she truly hadn't seen much of him during her time in the Labyrinth, the few moments that they had shared left her with no doubt that he was passionate in everything he did; his anger was explosive, his planning was genius, his desire was all-consuming. In the Crystal Ballroom he had been surrounded by women of every shape and size, from the supremely elegant to the ridiculously gaudy, but Jareth had only had eyes for her; she was the single focus of that intense drive. Sarah had been more frightened by his gaze, full of such longing, than the rapidly closing-in courtiers. She had panicked and fled, but the question kept returning: What would it have been like to let herself go? At fifteen the thought of sex was just as terrifying as it was intriguing.

Despite her innocence, Sarah's opinions of physical relations had changed with the years; it was something to be explored, experimented with, not something to fear. Except in the case of the man who was pressed to her back. To give herself to a boy from school would be a learning experience, a brief foray that could be forgotten as soon as the relationship ended; with Jareth she had no doubt that it would be a commitment. He had asked to rule her once, and if she gave him the chance he would do it with a velvet-covered, iron fist. It would be as pleasurable as it would be binding, held to him in ecstasy but forced to stay there. If his passion could consume all of his senses, then what would it do to the one he chose to unleash it on? There was no doubt that Jareth carried about him the air of experience, no one could have such calculated appeal without already having known the pleasures of the flesh, but losing herself to him could very well lead him to think she had finally accepted his offer. Her slave, indeed; he couldn't very well be her slave if he was already a slave to himself!

'But would it really be so bad?' she wondered to herself. Sarah let out a frustrated huff; things were just so complicated. What was it that Jareth really wanted? How were they connected?

And how much of a commitment would it be to give in?

In the back of her mind, Sarah was tormented by the remembrance of commanding lips seeking out sensitive flesh, the barest hint of sharp canines playing wicked games across her shoulder, the delicious feel of male strength hovering just above her, and the bewitching scent of the man who had done it all.


Jareth cocked his head slightly, trying to get a better view of Sarah's face. She had gone oddly quiet and he was curious as to what she was thinking about; he could tell she was confused but then, when wasn't she? A slight frown pulled at the corner of her lips, making her bottom lip pout out in a way that was just begging to be nipped. It was an alien concept to restrain himself, but he hadn't been kidding earlier. There was no point starting something that they wouldn't have enough time to finish, and rushing her before he even had her trust would be a fatal mistake at this point. A woman such as Sarah was meant to be savored, loved as completely as possible; it wasn't enough to simply commit the act, she had to be convinced of the emotion as well. It would mean a little more waiting on his part but that would simply make her surrender sweeter. For the both of them.

But that didn't make it any easier. In the early days of his obsession Jareth hadn't felt much for Sarah other than curiosity; she was young and endearing, the sort of girl any man would pray for, should he have daughters. She grew though, grew fast as her people always did, went from an adorable little girl to a brilliant young woman. In some ways he had always loved her, it was hard not to be drawn in by that endless fascination, but in the blossom of womanhood his love for her had taken on a completely different nature. It wasn't enough to be her silent guardian anymore, it wasn't enough to stay away until he could figure their connection out, it wasn't enough to love her in a platonic, absentminded way. That tiny little slip of a girl had made him burn in ways that women of his court had only dreamed of achieving. To his people age truly meant nothing, but even he had known that she was perhaps too young; old enough for devotion, certainly, but too young for passion. It hadn't always been so, a few hundred years ago he would have been able to stake his claim and take her with him as a babe, but standards had changed. It wasn't acceptable anymore for a man of his relative (mental) age to give attention to a girl of less than twenty, to be obstinately patriarchal (as everyone had once been) and decide her life for her.

The Labyrinth had been a mistake, she hadn't understood what he was trying to tell her, had set himself up too high to be reached. She had made all the wrong turns, taken all the wrong advice and still found her way to the center; but then, the center of the Labyrinth had always been close to his heart, a place where she already resided. He had been unable to utilize the full malevolence of the twisting maze, emotion had held his power in careful check; it would do him no good to scare the girl. If he had been thinking ahead he never would have put that final line in the book ("You have no power over me," even now it made him shake in both dejection and rage) but he had been so damn sure of himself. He'd had every reason to think he would win, Sarah was practically a child and no one had ever found their way through his games before; besides that, she had called for him. Not to him, as she had done in the past, but for him; he had tried restraining himself, saying that young girls were fickle, that she had no idea what she was asking for, but it had been hopeless. If nothing else, he and Sarah were the same in that once they had set their sights on something they did not relent until it was theirs. So he had played the Hades, dragging sweet Persephone down into his dark kingdom; it was ironic that one bite of fruit had given her the strength to defeat him, rather than keep her confined to his realm.

It was a long relationship of denial, on both their parts. When Jareth had first met her as a baby he had been convinced that it didn't mean anything, unusual though it was for one of the Kings to be summoned. As a toddler, he had admitted that there was something special about Sarah but it wouldn't warrant physical inspection, so he had watched her grow up from afar. The first time she had called for him he had known that he loved her, but refused to subject her to the intensity of his emotions while she was still so young. She hadn't stopped though, and a man could only be teased so much before he broke; he was done pretending that nothing laid between them. But then Sarah had picked up the thread of denial. A villain could not love in her mind, and so he had set out to prove her wrong. It had backfired horribly, not only did she continue to ignore his capacity to feel but she flat out refused him for a squealing whelp that she could barely tolerate. He had preserved though, the future held a promise of second chance, so he waited until the time was right. Her body was innocent but her mind now understood what he had so desperately been trying to show her; perhaps not as well as she could, given a few more years to mature, but waiting was a painful practice and not something that Jareth could easily endure where Sarah was concerned. But still their relationship suffered from denial; the woman absolutely refused to entertain the thought that there could be more between them than her beloved fairytale!

Perhaps the blame was not entirely her own though, he mused. He had made the mistake of not making his intentions entirely clear once before and it had cost him dearly. To make the same mistake again, knowing full well that Sarah's stubborn nature was simply complicating matters, would be intolerable. She couldn't be expected to fall to his charms if she had no idea why he was even using them; perhaps she was concerned about the nature of the relationship he was seeking. The fear of become just another face in a vast sea of conquests could be overwhelming; she had no way of knowing that she was the conquest, the only woman he had ever pictured as his bride. It was time, he thought, to be perfectly blunt about what he desired and start wooing her in earnest.

In front of him Sarah let out a huff at her own thoughts, and for a moment Jareth was jealous at whatever had distracted her so thoroughly that she could ignore him even when he was, quite literally, wrapped around her.


She found him attractive, inhumanly so (quite fittingly), but that had never really been the question. It was almost a given that she would find someone such as Jareth appealing, he was everything boys her age couldn't be: pure fantasy. But a true relationship could not survive on sexual energy alone and he really didn't do much to inspire a sense of moral integrity. She had no idea what he did with his life, what sort of society he was from; hell, she barely even knew him.

Somewhere, buried in the mess of thoughts that dealt with him, Sarah knew that she felt something for him emotionally. Given half a chance, she could even come to love Jareth as much as she desired him. But could she trust someone like him with her heart? In some ways it wasn't fair how quick she was to judge him, they had only known each other for a short period and under bizarre circumstances, but this was a serious matter. He had never come off as particularly trustworthy, but now that the curiosity had set in Sarah was interested to know what they could possibly share. She had never flourished particularly well in her past relationships, it was easier to love someone as a sister than a girlfriend, but perhaps it was time to get a bit of a feel for the situation. So much time had been wasted in hiding, forcing everything deep inside where it had no chance to be reflected upon, but she could loosen up, relax enough to see if their 'sham of a relationship' wasn't so much of a sham after all.

As Sarah's thoughts resolved themselves she slowly came back to herself. Jareth's head still rested in the crook of her shoulder but angled in such a way that he was staring at her, and for a moment she wished that he weren't so uncomfortably close. "What?" she asked nervously, doing her best to return his stare without going cross-eyed.

Had Jareth been a woman, the expression which crossed his face could have been described as pouting but, as things stood, everything about it was slightly too masculine to be labeled as such. It was more of a good-natured sulk. "I hate it when you do that," he replied in a tone that she had often heard Toby use. "Here I am, hanging over you like devilishly handsome dead weight, and you go off ignoring me." He not-quite-pouted again, "You truly know how to kick a man's ego." His arms tightened around her waist as he shifted them both forward, toward the edge of the bed. "Up you get," he whispered in her ear, standing them up in a move that would have been comical had he not been so graceful. After a few moments' indecision he gave her middle a playful squeeze, before finally releasing her and heading for the door.

Sarah stared after him in shock, her quick steps blocking his path. "I want answers, Jareth; strange things are happening and you keep telling me I wouldn't understand" she spoke quietly as her thoughts flickering back to earlier that morning. "Well that's not good enough; make me understand."

Jareth walked around her, pausing at the door. "You will get your answers Sarah, as well as I am able to provide them, but for now your family is awake and I suggest we put in an appearance before your brother starts explaining why his big sister isn't downstairs eating breakfast yet." He held his hand out for her.

She regarded him a moment, yet again amazed at how almost-human his magic had made him look, before she put her hand in his. "You promise?" she asked with just the tiniest twinge of command.

Strawberry blond locks fell into brilliantly blue eyes, made all the more striking in contrast to his dark clothing. He let out a laugh, the youthful throat adding more of cheery ring to it than she had ever heard. "It would appear I have no choice." Jareth turned serious for a moment, "I've already promised you answers, Sarah; never doubt that I will honor that."

Breakfast that morning was oddly chipper considering that she spent most of it glaring at her boyfriend and studiously ignoring the gaze of Toby, who was blatantly making noises of disgust. Karen, for her part, appeared completely oblivious and not the least bit curious about why Jareth was over so early or even when he had arrived; her father seemed to be using the newspaper as a shield against the rest of the occupants of the table, making Sarah glance at her brother's cereal box and wonder if she could, in effect, do the same. 'Probably not,' she sighed to herself; if there was one thing she had learned where Jareth was concerned it was that there was no use hiding.

It wasn't even his fault, really, that she was upset; Sarah was impatient for explanations, but Jareth was being practical. They had an appearance to develop and maintain, it would be better to hold off long conversations until after they had parted company with her family. On the other hand, she felt completely justified in some of her glaring. Whether she had enjoyed it or not, in less than twenty-four hours he had broken the only rule that she had set; there had been quite a bit more touching than necessary that morning. Still…

At least he hadn't grabbed her ass.


A/N: I have finally gotten a new laptop to replace the hell-spawn that I had previous been trying to use. Normally this would mean more frequent updates, but semester is almost over so I'm anticipating a bit of a crazy schoolwork schedule soon (papers, tests, finals, and all that jazz). (I love how every time I warn you guys of possible delays, I end up updating early. Consider this chapter a bonus for this week; it didn't really go where I wanted it to, but I'll get there next chapter so I can't complain.)

(To anyone who has sent me a PM and I have not responded: I'm not recieving any of my email alerts, so I apologize for the delay in my getting back to you.)

Woohoo! Broke 300 reviews! That's a personal record for me; I still can't believe how much response this story is getting. So hugs, kisses, and very big thank you's to everyone! (And as a friendly reminder, you should all go to Mistress Eden's website (link found in her profile) where this, and many other wonderful stories are archived.)

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Disclaimer: Nothing from the movie Labyrinth belongs to me; I'm just a girl whose imagination refuses to stop running wild.