Ok, so I've read this and re-read this about ten times, no matter what you all say, I'm happy with it. Actually, this was the easiest chapter to write, mostly because I had it all mapped out when I started this fic. All the other chapters were rough ideas and bullet points that I sort of tagged together, this was actually roughly written and needed fleshing out a little, My sister read it, she thinks it works, then again, my sister has been known to have very poor taste. Thanks out to my reviewers: Mint Tea Rose, Dragoon-Yue, FaerieatHeart13, draegon-fire, notwritten, Anna McNarin, Avispa, InuLvr7, aeenc, Me, angelbabe2000, Skyrere, sweetbabby33, FireShifter, yodeladyhoo and ScarlethasPheonixpower. All of you are amazing, as usual!

Chapter Twenty-nine: Truth

Jareth stood at his window and looked down rather than out at the city. Beneath him he could hear the sound of laughter, Sarah's laughter, and it brought to mind a time when her laugh had been for him and not for the insane woman she was sat talking to. He sighed, wanting to know what she was laughing at and dreading ever finding out. Assigning Sarah to Marissa should have been a punishment for the girl, a punishment for something that was not even her fault.

A knock on the study door brought him back to reality and he sat at his desk before calling for the visitor to enter. Torel walked into the room, he was obviously nervous and the emotion was very out of character for the normally self assured steward.

"Your Majesty." He bowed.

"Yes, Torel," Jareth looked up from the paper that still covered his desk, his eyes were oddly gentle.

"It's about Sarah." The flintiness returned to Jareth's eyes and Torel almost regretted bring up the girl.

"Has Marissa mistreated her in any way?" He demanded, his voice hard and cold, even though he knew the answer.

"No, Majesty, not at all. Quite the opposite and it has me concerned. She has taken Sarah into her confidence, treats her as a Lady-in-waiting rather than her maid. As you know she has given her several fine dresses to wear, they walk in the gardens together and Marissa takes her riding. I believe that she is manipulating her. I think she's using Sarah to help her get you to ... ... ..." he shrugged and spread his hands, "you know."

"I am aware, Torel, but I doubt that even Sarah dislikes me enough to wish to aid Marissa, knowingly or not."

"I fear, that Marissa's treatment of her is going to put her in even greater danger than she was before." Torel insisted.

"Perhaps you are correct," Jareth decided after a moments thought. "Send Sarah to me." He ordered. Torel nodded and left as Jareth leant back in his seat. He had only three weeks until he was free of his wife, released from a loveless marriage entered into by a child. Marissa must have been getting desperate to turn to this kind of tactic, to plot with the woman who had defeated him as a mere child. A woman that Marissa had to know had power over him, she was cruel, not stupid.

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Sarah was just mounting her horse for her weekly ride with Marissa when Torel emerged from the stables, his face slightly flushed. Sarah looked down as he shouted her name. The Fae steward stopped by her horse and looked up at her.

"The King wishes to see you." Marissa made a sound of discontent.

"She will attend to him as soon as we are done here." She told the steward her tone lofty and distaste on her face. It was clear that she held nothing but contempt for Jareth's most loyal servant.

"With respect, Your Highness, he wishes to see her now."

"You will tell him that he will see her later. Come, Sarah!" Marissa spurred her horse forward and Sarah smiled apologetically at Torel before following. Torel muttered something rude and retreated back to the castle.

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Sarah debated the possibility of causing Marissa some severe physical harm as she raced through the castle. Not only had the Queen dragged her off on her ride after Torel had summoned her, she had then insisted that Sarah change and style her hair before presenting herself to Jareth. If Jareth had not been angry with her when he had sent out the summons, he was going to be furious now.

She sighed and knocked on the study door, there was nothing else for it, she would have to take things as they came.

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Jareth heard the knock on the door and breathed a sigh of relief. It was unlike Sarah not to answer a summons the instant she received it. It was also unlike her to make him wait when he knew that she was in the castle and he wondered what his Queen had been up to make Sarah late.

"Come, Sarah!" He called, knowing that it would again throw her off guard and enjoying the power it gave him. The door drifted open and he saw Sarah stood there, a perplexed frown on her pretty face.

"My apologies for my tardiness, Your Majesty," she curtseyed. "You wished to see me." Her tone was no longer mocking, her eyes were modestly downcast and he wondered if five weeks with Marissa was really all it had taken to dampen her fire. He allowed himself to look her over before he replied, she now wore a green gown, one where the colours seemed to shift from light to dark as she fidgeted. Her long dark hair had been scooped away from her face and elegantly styled, everything about her appearance screamed Marissa.

"I need to talk with you about your mistress." He saw her nervously smooth the front of her dress. "I presume she gave you that? And she magically styled your hair?" Sarah nodded. "What does she say of me?"

"She, uh, she tells me in the strictest confidence, Sire," Sarah tried to side step the question, after all, how could you tell a man that you try to hate, yet seem to love at the same time, that his wife alternates between calling him an ignorant, pig headed, impotent fool, to saying that she loved him, and then going back to the name calling. Sarah had seen it all and she was not eager to repeat any of it. She did not want him to become angry at her for daring to repeat some of the more insulting words, nor did she want him to suddenly realise that he loved Marissa because she was silly enough to repeat that conversation.

"Sarah," he warned her, his voice low, yet even that sounded too much like a caress and he mentally cursed his weakness. She blushed and looked up at him, the old fire returning to her eyes and it delighted him to see that it had not been killed entirely.

"Why do you need me to tell you? She's your wife. Surely you talk!"

"Too often for my tastes," he grumbled, ignoring Sarah's outburst. "What is she planning, Sarah? What sordid little scheme is she using now?" He gestured for her to sit, not surprised when she chose to remain standing, seeing the anger that flared in her eyes with his words and not really blaming her. He knew that they should have talked the day he realised that Marissa was buying Sarah dresses. "You will tell me what I want to know!"

"What? You want me to spy on the woman you love?" She demanded.

"I do not love her, Sarah, I never did, as you are well aware. And, yes, I want you to spy on her." He kept his voice level, wanting to shout from the rooftops that he hated Marissa with all of his heart.

"Why would I?" Sarah was not showing the same restraint he was and was allowing her emotions to show. "You married her, Jareth, you must have loved her when you did!" There it was, the root of the whole problem that had existed between them from, well, from day one really, when he thought about it. When he had first met Sarah, several days before she had called on him, he had known that he could not be with her, it had clouded his judgement, made him do and say things he should not have. Now, it seemed, things were coming back to haunt him. He rubbed his temples, the first sign of stress he had allowed to show, and when he spoke his voice was tense.

"It was an arranged marriage, Sarah, love was not required, only obedience. I will say it again, I do not love her." This was not the conversation they were supposed to be having. She was supposed to just tell him everything. Was she still so angry at him that she was willing to defend Marissa?

"So all this time you've lied to her? Lead her to believe you had feelings for her? You expect me to believe that?" Jareth idly noted that her face was turning a more interesting shade of red, even as his mind latched onto the fact that Sarah had told him Marissa believed him in love with her. "After all of the lies you told me? All of the things you offered me, were they lies too? Another trap hidden in your words."

"Sarah..." he hesitated, then stood and marched to the window, avoiding her accusing eyes, trying to control his temper. "In the Goddess' name, Sarah, do you really want me to be stuck with that banshee for all eternity?" He demanded, finally, losing the battle to stay in control and letting his anger take over, perhaps more angry that, instead of discussing Marissa's potential threat levels, they were discussing his feelings for her.

"I think you deserve each other!"

"I don't love her, Sarah!" He snapped again, deciding to give a little, let her have a hint of his feelings. "There is only one person I have ever truly loved and she is not Marissa!" His confession did not have the desired reaction.

"Oh, and I suppose you lied to her too! How can you marry a woman if you don't love her? Arranged or not, how can you do it? Was this other woman at your wedding?"

"No," he felt himself deflate a little at her reaction, "I met her only after I married Marissa."

"So that makes it ok?" She questioned in reply and belatedly he remembered the reason she had been on the plane in the first place. "Men are all the same!" She snapped and marched from the room, unable to bare the jealous rage that his talking of loving another woman had evoked in her.

"Well that went well," Jareth muttered and sat back at his desk. After the conversation he had just had with Sarah, he now doubted that the woman he loved would ever be able to share his feelings.

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Sarah did not return to Marissa's chambers after she had marched from Jareth's study, her anger at him was still too near the surface, if she went to Marissa now, the Queen would only use it to her own advantage and needs. She could not believe how jealous she had felt when he had begun to talk of loving another woman. How could he love someone else? The idea made her feel sick and she wondered if she should have talked to him sooner.

It took her some time of pacing in her room for her to realise that she had shouted at the Goblin King, her king, a few more for her to begin to regret it profusely and a moment longer for her to decide that it was not really his fault that she had behaved so badly.

"Damn!" She snapped at her reflection in the mirror on the wall. He was right, of course, the marriage had been arranged and there was no reason to assume that he had ever loved Marissa in light of that. He could not help it if the woman was manipulative and she had fallen right into her trap, alienating herself from Jareth with a few ill thought out words simply because she had been angry with him. She had allowed Marissa to fuel her anger and had taken it out on the man who deserved it least in her eyes.

Sarah looked down at the dress she wore, the fine silk felt good against her skin, so much nicer than the rough, heavy material the maids dress was made out of. After so many months of the coarser dress, these new ones had seemed like a god send. Now it simply felt of Marissa's manipulation and magic and it made her feel dirty and used as she felt it seem to crawl over her skin. In a flurry of movement she had grabbed a towel and a robe, one of the only things she had brought back with her from her time with Rilton, and headed to the bath house.

The large bath was empty when she got there, it was late, too late to go and see Jareth to apologise, but she could spend this time removing the sense of Marissa's magic from her. Sarah dropped the towel and robe onto a bench by the bath and all but ripped off the dress and under garments, pulling her hair from its magical confines and running steaming hot water into the tub before pouring liberal amounts of peach bath scent into the water. The smell was almost intoxicating as it brought to mind the evening that she had begun to hate peach. Now as she lowered herself into the almost scalding water, she wondered how she had gone so long without it.

She lay in the water, simply happy to let the peach and the water wash the feel of Marissa from her body. As she relaxed, she let herself begin to think again. Jareth had wanted to know what Marissa had been angling for, she had denied him because she really had not been sure. At first she had though that the Queen had merely wanted Sarah's help in persuading Jareth not to divorce her. Now Sarah realised that it ran to more than that. Marissa wanted Sarah's help in getting Jareth into her bed!

She needed to see him, but even as she jumped out of the bath and ran the towel roughly over her body before pulling on the soft, satin robe, she realised that it was too late now. He would already have retired to bed. She just hoped that it was his own, that, despite the mad desires of her heart, the woman he spoke of loving was not her. She prayed that tomorrow morning would not be too late.

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Jareth sat and stared into the fire, dinner had come and gone, he had dismissed Torel with a wave of his hand and now he was sat alone in his study, alone with his thoughts and the fire. For some insane reason, Sarah always seemed to bring out the worst in him, they seemed to fight at every turn, never agreeing on anything. He was so afraid of losing her, that he had become cruel and bad tempered, he had done things to her that he never should have, giving Sarah to Marissa would probably turn out to be the one thing that finally drove the wedge between them.

The only time he had ever thought she may return any feeling he had for her was in the infirmary, as they had read together, the sound of her laughter or the way she would touch his arm as he read, her silent encouragement to continue and the happy way her eyes lit up when he walked into the room. That time had been their best time, no real fighting, no tears, no fear of losing the thing that was never his in the first place.

That was what it all came down to. The fact that, as much as he tried to tell himself otherwise, Sarah had never really been his. Perhaps there had once been a time when she could have been, but that time was gone. Just the way she had looked at him earlier told him that. The anger and disgust in her eyes as he talked of loving another, even though he had called her to him to discuss his wife. It had been a mistake and he knew it, Sarah held nothing but contempt for those who would love another while married. He understood why and wondered if he should have just told her that the feelings he had locked away in his heart were for her. Even as he thought of it, he thought he had also seen something else in her eyes, he thought that he had seen a flash of jealousy there, if just for a moment before the anger had covered it. He dismissed it, Sarah had never shared his feelings for her, he was almost certain, her heart lay elsewhere even though she had stayed through all of the mistreatment. He knew what he had to do.

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The next morning Sarah took more care over her appearance than she ever had before. The crystal Marissa had given her to use lay in the corner where Sarah had thrown it the night before. Now she sat with the brush in her hand as she gently pulled it through the waves she had plaited into her wet hair before she had gone to bed. Once she had teased and softened them enough, she pulled some of it back, securing half of it up with a silver clip. She rose and looked at the dress she had laid out on the bed and wondered if this was really the right thing to do. Then she shrugged and pulled on the peach gown she had asked Rilton to bring for her. It was a well known fact that the Queen hated peach of any sort, and that it had started just after Sarah had run the Labyrinth. Still, it had been her favourite, and Sarah decided to ignore the dangerous mood it would no doubt cause, she had something she needed to do first.

Before she left the room she slipped the wolf's head pendant around her neck, finishing the outfit and hoping that it made the intended impression. Then she cast a glance at the mirror again, noted the dark circles of her restless night, and left, her heals clicking on the stone floor as she walked, a woman with a purpose.

She knocked on the study door when she reached it, knowing that she was late with Marissa's breakfast, not caring, smoothed the peach gown, and stepped in without waiting to be invited. Jareth looked up at her from his chair by the fire and she could see the terrible weariness on his face. He still wore the same clothes that he had been wearing the night before and a shock ran through her as she realised that he had been sat there all night.

"Sarah," he breathed her name with all of his desire and longing for escape, checking himself as he saw the dress, the way it clung to her curves and flowed from her waist, the dress that Rilton had brought here for her. He let his mask descend, but not before she had seen the hurt in his eyes.

"I came to apologise," she closed the door behind her and came closer to the chair, trying to see some sign of a reaction.

"For what?" She heard the tiredness in his voice and it scared her.

"For yelling at you," he looked away from her searching eyes.

"All you said I deserved. You may as well go and prepare your mistress' chambers." He instructed then, his hopeless defeat catching his voice in his throat, making him sound broken.

"Why?" She hoped he was not telling her what she thought he was, feeling something in her chest catch.

"I have decided to do as my queen wishes. Now go." He stood slowly, painfully, staring into the fire unable to look at her.

"Why? Why do it? What about the woman you love? It's only three weeks until you can be with her!" His answering laugh was short, harsh and dead.

"I do not believe she will ever return my feelings. I suspect she has feelings for another. Marissa is queen, it is time I began to treat her as such." He gestured for her to leave, and as much as it hurt Sarah to let herself do it, she curtseyed and turned, before another question stopped her.

"Who is she?" She tried to keep the nearly crippling hope from making her legs give way beneath her.

"Who?"

"The woman you love." He looked back at her and something hardened behind his mismatched eyes.

"In light of my decision, I really fail to see how that matters any more." He snapped, Sarah refused to take the hint.

"Have you told her?" She moved closer to him, but kept the chair between them for the moment, not wanting to be too close.

"Why would I do that?" He mocked.

"Then how do you know she doesn't love you?" She moved around the chair, daring to stare up into his hard eyes, still allowing herself the foolish hope that he was talking about her and wondering why it had become so important to her that he did. Cursing her hope and aware of how unlikely it was that he would ever think of her that way as she looked at him, willing him to see in her eyes what she had never dared to show.

"Because..." he looked at her helplessly, crossing the remaining distance between them in a few short steps. "Because she has the offer of another, each time I see her, she is closer to accepting that offer." The hopelessness in his held her and she touched his cheek, feeling the electricity between them and knowing that she was now on dangerous ground. Jareth would do anything he could to avoid this meeting with Marissa, she did not care. After a second he turned away.

"Leave."

"Jareth..."

"Leave, Sarah!" She turned, hurt to be so dismissed, and moved towards the door when a gloved hand grasped her arm and spun her around, his lips on hers in a instant. His kiss was sweet, tasting of exotic spices and magic, potent and over whelming. To him, her lips were soft, she smelt of peaches and tasted of almonds and he crushed her to him, surprised when responded to his kiss with an unprecedented amount of enthusiasm.

"Wow," Sarah breathed, touching her lips as they came apart. "That is something she definitely does not deserve." He stared down at her, his eyes soft and vulnerable. "I would never have left, Jareth, no matter how many times it was offered. I stayed for you." She was not sure why it was so important to tell him that now, but as soon as she had said it, she knew it had been the right thing to do. All of the tension seemed to go out of him as he laughed, relieved and happy, her serious voice cut him off. "Don't give in to her, Jareth, please." She hated the desperation that sounded in her voice, but he simply grinned and kissed her again.

"I have no intention of it." He dropped a crystal between them and Sarah watched in fascination as the dress changed from peach to cream and gold, her hair rearranged itself so that it looked as though she had just done it and she now smelt of cherries. "It would not do to have Marissa fly into a rage at you, my Dearest Sarah." He kissed the back of her hand, that lightest of touches that seemed to burn into her soul. "Thank you," he whispered and vanished, leaving her standing alone in his study.

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To say that Marissa was angry when Sarah finally made her appearance would have been an understatement. Yet Sarah found it hard to feel any remorse for her actions as she listened to the other woman's angry tirade. Going to see Jareth had been the best thing she had done since she had arrived and she could not regret it.

Outside the Queen's chambers, the angry eyes that followed Sarah wherever she went retreated. They could hear the infuriated voice of the Queen and they decided that, no matter what appearances might be, Sarah was being punished suitably for actions in the past and there was no need for them to intervene.

Back inside and Marissa could see that Sarah was not really listening to her. Her eyes had taken on a dreamy expression, they were somewhere else and she fell silent, waiting to see if the foolish girl would notice. She did not, in fact, she simply ran her hands over the skirts of her dress and Marissa noticed for the first time that it was not one of the ones she had bestowed upon the girl.

"Where did you get that dress?" She demanded and Sarah was startled out of her dream world. She hesitated for a moment before finding her voice enough to reply.

"Prince, Rilton gave it to me, Your Highness, it was the reason for his visit a few weeks ago. Marissa scowled, not believing Sarah for a moment. The scent of Jareth's magic was all over her, and not the magic that flowed through Sarah's veins, this magic was fresh and it clung to the dress and her hair. The Queen's eyes narrowed but she did not voice her suspicions. She could wait.

Marissa's suspicions were confirmed later when Torel came and whispered a message in Sarah's ear. The girl had smiled in delight and had once again become a dreamer. Useless to the Queen.

The Fae woman waited, watching, she followed Sarah when the girl left her chambers that evening, watched as she went to her shared room and waited as the castle gradually fell asleep. For a short time, Marissa thought that she may have been wrong, maybe Torel's message had been nothing. Then she saw the door open, and Sarah came out of her room, her dark cloak pulled tightly around her shoulders as she moved quietly through the castle towards Jareth's study.

When the girl stepped quickly inside the room, Marissa saw red, Jareth was not in there, she knew that Sarah had arrived first of the pair and she followed her in. Sarah was stood by the fire, gazing into it as it slowly burnt, it could only have been built up for this meeting and Marissa reached for the large book that her husband had left on the table near the door. Grasping it and trying not to gasp at the weight she walked up behind her treacherous Lady-in-waiting and raised the book above her head, bringing it down with as much force she could as Sarah turned, sensing the other person in the room for the first time.

There was a dull thud and Marissa watched in satisfaction as Sarah's legs gave out from underneath her. She did not pass out, she lay on the carpet by the burning fire, dazed and confused, the King's name a whisper on her lips as Marissa kicked her a few time in the ribs. Then her eyes lit upon the fire and she grabbed the girl by the hair, pulling her face up and moving her towards the flames. She grunted as she shifted the weakly struggling girl, then pushed her face into the fire, feeling the flames lick her hands, feeling the pain and hearing the girls cries as the door opened behind her.

And this is where I leave it. I have to admit that there was a few places that I could have stopped earlier in the chapter, but this felt right and I leave it on my final cliff hanger! (Mine is an evil laugh!) I'm happy with this, it was an impulse reaction of Jareth's that got the lovely pair on track, I think it works (of course if you don't, you can tell me, I always like to hear what you think) this just flowed the best from my little finger, now worn nearly to the bone. I'l try to get the final chapter up within the next week, but my boiler just broke and I'm a little stuffed without it. No hot water means cold showers, which are evil! Until then.

Artemis