* * * * *
The Same Moon Part 10
* * * * *
A few hours later, nearer to morning then night Nathaniel stumbled towards the direction of his room, alcohol still pumping in his veins. Christian, sickeningly alert and refreshed stepped out of his room, a puzzled look on his face.
"Nathaniel. Have you seen Sarah?" He asked, his dark hair drawn back more severely then usual, a few grazes merging with his ivory tones, the only reminder of the past day. Nathaniel yawned, stretching tired arms out. His bones clicked as he did.
"Well you're not going to find her in there." He said massaging his temples as his head ached. He walked over to the balcony squinting in the strong sunlight and pulled the curtains to try and cease his aggravated head.
"Probably have better luck trying Jareth's room." Nathaniel chuckled, his back still to Christian. He didn't see the devastated look which crossed the younger man's face.
"That's alright," He murmured, "I'm sure she's fine."
Nathaniel shrugged, but when he turned back to Christian he had disappeared.
* * * * *
Sarah groaned as she became half conscious once more. But it was hard, her head throbbed and she felt unbelievably sick. Trying to block out the pain Sarah burrowed her head further into the sheets. But strangely she froze, it didn't feel quite right. Her sheets were warm, and very solid. Tentatively, she reached out a hand, not sure if her woozy head was playing tricks on her.
Not material she realised. Skin, smooth soft skin, she quickly withdrew her hand and her eyes shot open. Next to her a bare chested Jareth lay, one hand under his head the other resting loosely on his chest. Which Sarah had to admit was well toned and muscular, the colour of pale white ivory. The covers masked what else he might of wore. Sarah hoped that the silver pendant between his chest wasn't all that he had on.
His pale blonde hair was spread out upon the pillow behind his head and his lids firmly closed. Sarah slowly sat up, not sure what to do. She remembered kissing him last night, along with feelings of humiliation and others she couldn't place, pleasure flooded back with the memory. But she didn't remember sleeping with him. That was something she definitely wouldn't, and didn't want to forget. Suddenly, despite all she had faced before, she felt out of her depth. She had never shared a bed with a man before, yet alone Jareth. But she couldn't give him the satisfaction of leaving, she wouldn't.
Absently she closed her eyes, and rested on her side, her other hand massaged her head. The throbbing and pain was beginning to subside. She realised that the room was not her own, similar in it's simplicity but not hers. A window was open, letting in a clear, salty sea breeze and Sarah heard birds sing from out the window, she relaxed.
"Good Morning Sarah." Jareth's eyes remained close, and he didn't even move a fraction, but she knew from only a very slight, almost identifiable sneer on his lips that he had spoken. Sarah jumped and dropped the hand from her hair. She moved to lean back on her elbows, breathing shallow and swallowed.
"I said good morning." He opened his eyes, and leisurely turned to look at her expectantly. He looked completely comfortable, completely at ease with the situation. Whereas Sarah, never having been in a situation like this before, was trying hard to stop trembling.
"Good morning." She said quietly, not moving from her position. She was still wearing the shirt from last night, but boots and breeches she noticed were situated on the floor at the end of the double bed. Jareth chuckled, a cocky, satisfied smile on his face as he looked up at her. Her mind was still a mess, had she slept with him? If not what was she doing in his bed? Whatever the answer Jareth wasn't letting on, enjoying her nervousness.
Slowly she removed the sheets from her legs and walked to the end of the bed, Jareth looked at her appreciatively the whole way and she suddenly felt very exposed.
"What time is it?"
Jareth chuckled at her aversion and lay back down again. "About seven, but it's pointless leaving until afternoon, the streets will be too busy. And anyway we need to give you and Nathaniel sometime to recover from your hangovers."
Sarah suddenly tensed and sat on the other side of the bed, breeches in her lap. He smiled, bearing gleaming, sharp teeth.
"You can actually remember last night then?"
"Stop playing games with me Jareth." She said seriously not looking at him.
"Then stop acting like a spoilt little child who can't decide what they want."
Sarah spun to look at him dropping the trousers to kneel on the bed, something between anger and hurt on her face. He raised a curved eyebrow and was now sat up on the bed, leant back on his elbows. Baiting her once more. With a powerful hand she slapped him on his left cheek. He momentarily flinched, but looked almost like he had expected it. At least the smack had rid him of his arrogant sneer, apart from that he didn't even seem fazed.
Suddenly Sarah felt the anger and raw emotion in her once more and not caring if she surprised him, or if she met his expectations, quickly she positioned herself so that she was sat on his abdomen and kissed him. Sarah could almost feel his lips curve to form a sneer as his arms wrapped around her body. Furiously he pulled her down so that she lay on top of him, then rolled over so that he could pin her underneath his heavy body. He continued to spread kisses along he lips and her jawline as Sarah's finger nails dug into his back.
To her dismay she discovered that he did actually wear his dark breeches from the night before, but at the same time she realised that he did, in a peculiar way respect her in that small act. As hands trailed under her shirt she suddenly realised that for the first time Jareth wore no gloves. His cool palms were a shock against her hot flesh as they caressed the skin there. Discovering the blouse was too tight to fit his hands any further under he furiously ripped the buttons from the garment, an almost savage look on his face, so dangerous that it excited Sarah whilst at the same time it scared her. She breathed hard and moaned as he pressed his body against hers, her hands were in his blonde hair, massaging his scalp as he nipped at the tender flesh of the neck and his cool, slender fingers massaged her breasts. She needed his cruelty, his touch, she needed him.
At that moment there was nothing but them, nothing but this moment. At the same time his caresses caused her nothing but pleasure, the bite of sharp teeth at her neck hurt in a strange erotic pain, and she realised that despite all this Jareth was right. He was generous, but he was still cruel. She brought his head up to kiss his thin lips, pressing her mouth against his brutally.
In that they were well matched.
* * * * *
"To be delivered straight into the hands of the King and Queen of Nefar. No one else must see it."
The young messenger nodded, and took the envelope shrinking it with magic from small podgy fingers and turned to leave. He was caught in his tracks by a commanding voice.
"And if anyone does see it..."
A pause, the boy trembled ever so slightly.
"Then I will search the whole of this kingdom for you boy, and when I do find you....."
Jareth paused, the young boy had begun to shake slightly now obviously scared of him. He had meant to say something threatening, something to make the boy shake even more. He looked behind him at the young woman sleeping soundly in the bed and smiled briefly, before turning back to the messenger.
"Just make sure no one sees it."
Visibly relieved the boy nodded his head even more vigorously. Good thing this strange Fae was paying him over one hundred seren now, another hundred on delivery otherwise he'd probably run screaming right now. Who the hell did he think he was, a bloody King? Turning and making himself even smaller to match the size of the envelope he flew, welcome to be away from that man, out of the window and into the ocean air of Meridia.
When the small light had disappeared out of the window, Jareth returned to the sleeping woman, shutting the door firmly behind him. He sat on the edge of the bed and she mumbled something in her sleep, turning to face where he sat. He traced the outline of her face with his hand, running a finger over her lips and sighed.
What was wrong with him? He had taken many women, older then Sarah, powerful sorceresses, queens and Ladies. Yet this time guilt seemed to consume him. He had taken her innocence afterall, he had not been surprised of that last night. If he had discovered that she wasn't still innocent he probably would have sought out the culprit and dropped him in the bog of eternal stench.
The thing was though no matter what he said, Christian was right, usually he would pick and choose women as he pleased, maybe even playing them off against each other. Just something to pass the time. Then after he had had his fill, he would move on. And it wouldn't bother him, he was almost proud of the fact that he could so easily manipulate others, especially women. But around her, no, it felt like a sin to be as he was. A concentrated poison burning through his veins each time he was cruel, each time he was spiteful. In her youth she would be cruel yes, in arrogance, but then what after that? She would soon get tired of his games.
Damn, how easily he was ruled by matters of the flesh. Christian had been right too many times. Many more times then him.
He brought his bare hand up to brush his falling hair from his face, massaging his temples. His fingers brushed against his forehead and he was surprised to find creases where the skin should be sleek and smooth. Wearily he got up so as not to disturb the girl and looked into a mirror mounted on the opposite side of the room. Bracing himself on a wooden ledge in front of it he stared. Eyes deep in their sockets pushed back by too many years of responsibility he did not care for. Creases around his forehead and mouth from too many games, too many spiteful sneers, of too many people unfortunate enough to feel his wrath. And irises dull, dull from the memory of ruining the lives of too many people who tried to get close to him. The thought no longer pleased him as the destructive and uncaring ruler he had become. Alanna once a happy and bright young girl had become eerily serious and cold, wary of anyone around her. Arram was bitter, solemnly serious, Nathaniel a hopeless drunk and his brother a foolish youth.
And then there was Sonya.
He let his hand drop from his face, and could no longer meet himself in the eyes.
What did Christian know about having a daughter? What did he know about losing a daughter? A daughter as unknowing and as innocent as her. Who could only find the good in people, who could find the good in him. And he hadn't protected her, he had failed her.
He was hers, and he had lost her. Her throat slit by her own uncle because he was too proud to give in, because, although he resented his Kingship, he would never give it to his insane brother.
He'd be damned if he'd let it happen again.
He'd swore never again after Sonja, never again. It's was dangerous around him. And for a long time that had been exciting to him. But sometime, over the last few days it seemed he had discovered, or rediscovered, his conscience.
So maybe then it was time to break out of this fantasy they had been living in. But there would be no way Sarah would agree with him. She was a dreamer, an idealist. *Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered* His expression softened. She really had meant that, hadn't she? She'd never accept it was for the best.
That left only one option. He realised that he was dismayed at this thought. Come on now Jareth, he scolded himself, you've always been the big bad before. But was he? Rugar was clearly evil, Christian clearly good, he should have always been King. In all honesty he should be with Sarah, they were both the heroes in their stories. But what did that make him? Cruel or generous? Or both?
He was tired, so tired. He had spent too long pretending he cared about a Kingdom that resented him, and now his Labyrinth was gone. The magic was boring and controlled, it numbed him. He grew weary of giving orders to people who infuriated him. Of living in a role he had never deserved, dammit he was tired of being the villain of playing games he just didn't care for anymore.
He hated it, all he cared about was her.
And that was why if they survived this then he would leave. He wasn't sure what he would do and that was for the best. He wanted to have no control, he wanted to live without a care. Being a King he had to care, being a brother or a father he had to care.
He glanced at the sleeping woman, her lips moving ever so slightly as she dreamed. His weakness. Being a lover he had to care. He knew too well that the innocent die young, and if Rugar didn't kill her as revenge against him, then he would do a lot worse. Intentionally or not. No Sarah deserved a lot better.
He exhaled, steaming up the mirror, masking his appearance from view.
There was only one way to survive getting close to Jareth. For the selfish King to leave them alone. Or death. He knew which he would rather for Sarah. He could be cruel, he could be evil, he could make her hate him once again. That is if she ever had hated him. No, he was the villain, that was the comfortable role. Any other made him weak, human contact made him weak, love made him weak.
And so with that he knew. This would be the last ever game he would play.
* * * * *
She awoke slowly stretching each limb after many honeyed hours of sleep. She had dreamt she was in Central Park and the sun had been beating down on her face and she had been so happy, and someone had been with her. She smiled but still didn't open her lids, still dream like she reached over for the space where he should be, for his smooth skin, for his soft blonde hair.
Empty sheets.
Sitting up she realised she was the only occupant of the bed. She stared a while at the open space, just trying to make sure she hadn't imagined her and Jareth between them. A familiar pounding and a tightening in her chest told her she didn't. Oh God, she could still smell him, his dark almost musk scent.
Listen to me, she thought, one encounter with him and I'm completely at his mercy. But she didn't seem to care, she liked the way he made her feel weak now. She liked his possessive qualities, the jealousy she had seen last night. It didn't matter about Marie, it didn't matter that he had had a daughter with another woman. Because last night instead of being on opposite sides, they were on the same one. And it felt right.
The only thing that threatened her happiness now was Rugar, and at the way she felt at the moment she could beat anything.
One of the two suns of Nefar was high across a dappled blue canvas, and Sarah guessed it was late afternoon. If she remembered rightly then they would be leaving soon. Christian had said that it would be best to leave near to sunset, they wouldn't be seen easily by any over head spies.
Christian.
Her heart sank. Christian who had been so kind to her, who had done everything for her and who obviously had a more then friendly interest in her. Jareth's good looking brother who was funny, sweet, kind, caring, almost all the things Jareth wasn't. He would be heart broken when he found out what had happened between her and Jareth. It wasn't that she didn't like Christian, in all honesty he would be the better choice for her. But love never did follow your senses. But when she was around Christian. He had rescued her, been there for her. Jareth on the other hand.....she tried not to think about it. God, just when most things were straight in my head, she thought.
Extending her arms fully and yawning she got out of the bed, and walked over to sit on the window ledge, loving the site of the ocean lapping at the sand across the beach side. She dragged her fingers through her hair and loved the way everything was calm. This would probably be the last chance before what ever happened, happened. She wasn't quite sure what Jareth and Christian had planned, she had gotten used from being told little. But she trusted them, both of them. Christian to do the right thing, Jareth to, Jareth to...she tried to think of what she was trying to say. But instead settled for remembering the feel of his mouth on hers, his sweaty skin pressed against her own, settled for....
"You should be dressed."
She awoke from her daydream with a start, almost falling off the ledge. Jareth looked at her blankly and very seriously. He wore a black shirt and even blacker breeches, it seemed he wore a lot of black lately. No memory of sultry smiles from before lingered on his face. He looked almost annoyed. Cautiously she picked up a peach silk gown to wrap around the slip she wore. Suddenly feeling incredibly exposed and some kind of dread lulled in her stomach.
No longer interested in her he moved to a chest of drawers pulling one open sharply and removing a wad of bills. Each movement was jerky and filled with detachment. Almost as if what had happened was just a figment of her imagination. She frowned.
"I only just got up."
"Well we're just about to leave."
He didn't look at her. She stood where she was, saying nothing. When she didn't reply he looked up as he pulled a pair of think black leather gloves onto leather hands, hands that had...
"Well come on." The voice was annoyed, insistent as if he were talking to a child. He walked over to the adjacent room where the baths were.
She suddenly became overwhelmed with anger, what was going on? If this was another game
"Excuse me? What gives you the right to talk to me like that?" She demanded, standing at the doorway, watching as he tied his locks back, making him look even more menacing. He didn't even spare her a look.
"I have the right to do what ever I want Sarah, now get moving."
She stumbled for the words and tried to still the warnings her thudding heart had given her. The caring and possessive Jareth she had glimpsed before had been put out like a fragile flame. She desperately wanted that Jareth back.
"Why are you being like this?" She spoke quietly.
He finally turned to look at her, almost innocent, like he didn't understand. Wearing all black, hair contained, he looked sombre and full of contempt. No room for dreams, or the glamour he would usually indulge in. The lack of hair wild about his face made him look severe and almost as if her presence was a strain on him.
"Like what?"
She said nothing, what did he mean like what?
His expression dropped into knowing, and he shook his head smiling pitifully at her. She wrapped the gown tighter around her shivering body. "Sarah let's not turn this into something it's not. That was a game, nothing more, nothing less."
She felt her self grow hot and her eyes start to swell. No Sarah don't make it worse. He chuckled.
"Of course you were very good." He treated her as one might reassure a nervous and naive young child and her evil villain had returned, "For someone so young and so inexperienced," He added, "And now maybe we can finally close this tiring game of ours, I do, afterall, have slightly more important things to think about."
He brushed quickly past her, and she bit back tears. Her head felt woozy, and if she didn't sit down in a second she was going to faint. She thought he'd changed, that he'd meant all those things. But it had been a game, it had always been a game to him. And she had lost. Williams how could you let yourself be so stupid, how could you possibly think he was capable of compassion, of generosity, of love. Oh God, she'd been so stupid. He had been everything she had wanted, evil prince, and now caring lover, but she didn't want this.
At the last second he turned to see her still standing there her back to him, shaking, close to tears and she heard him sigh.
"Sarah I really don't have time for these games right now. There are more important things at stake and you're jeopardising them."
She said nothing. He laughed wearily.
"Really I did think we were past the spoilt child routine."
And then he was gone. With the thud of the hollow oak door she gave in to her weakness and sunk to her feet sobbing.
* * * * *
They had been travelling for what seemed like days now on the way to Nefar, the King and Queen awaiting them. In reality though, what felt like days was actually hours. Still it was long enough for the vibrant blue sky to have been blanketed by the night, more stars then she had ever seen embroidered like sequins on to it. The moon glimmered amongst them all, as bright as ever, but all Sarah could feel was numb. Her lips were pursed together and her breaths long. It was as if a heavy oppressive weight lay upon her chest and reality was like a sharp thorn embedded in her side.
Christian stared at her with concern. She could see him in the corner of her eye, but she couldn't look at him. She wasn't entirely sure why, maybe guilt, shame or sheer stupidity, nonetheless she still couldn't bring herself to meet the concerned look glazing his eerily serious eyes.
He had attempted conversation many times and she had told him that she just wanted to sleep. That was an hour ago and her eyes were still open, he couldn't even be sure if she blinked. As far as he could see she hadn't moved at all over the past hour. The carriage went over a bump in the road, jerking the vehicle slightly but she barely noticed it, didn't move an inch. He sighed. It was their turn to rest, the others rode up front on horses that they had bought in Meridia. All they had been able to afford had been one carriage, and after a couple of hours of riding it was now his and Sarah's turn to rest.
All he could guess from her behaviour was that Jareth had ignored his warning. All that remained was the quiet, serious girl he had seen on earth, empty and uncaring, with serious focus. But the focus this time wasn't getting into university, it was passing into the ninth realm and killing his brother, reclaiming the Labyrinth. He hoped that Sarah was in the right state of mind to help them. She had to be, there was no other way to get there if she wasn't.
Damn you Jareth, he thought, Damn you. Bad enough that he hadn't even had a chance to train her, they'd have to get her to use her talents through one of them but she looked like at any second she was going to commit bloody murder. He just hoped that when she did she'd choose Jareth as her victim.
Christian wasn't quite certain what brother he'd rather see dead. The whole of his being brimmed with jealousy. He'd been with her, he'd been with this damnable sweet creature and he'd used her. As soon as this was over he didn't care that Jareth was his brother, that Jareth was King, that Jareth was a strong magical Fae. He was going to kill him. To hell with the consequences. He'd done the same with so may other women, he'd near as close done it to Alanna. He knew that she idolised him, almost loved him and he'd done nothing to stop her affections, pleading ignorance and still leading her along. So that in the end Alanna wouldn't have anyone but him, spoilt for other men, spoilt for Christian. Loyal faithful Christian, Loyal gullible Christian.
Let him do what he wanted with whores and sluts like Marie, Alanna he could almost believe he hadn't meant to, he had to. But not this time, not this time. He had deliberately hurt Sarah, and if he knew his brother he enjoyed every single second of it.
Abruptly the carriage came to a halt. He should have known not to let Nathaniel drive, he thought, probably half drunk already. He waited for motion to start again, but nothing. He looked over at Sarah to see that she mirrored his perplexion, actually sitting up to look at him. He opened his door and jumped out to see what was going on, Sarah following.
"What's going on?"
His brown boots crunched in the gravel as he moved to see where his probably drunken friend sat. The driver's seat was empty.
"Shit."
"What?" Sarah asked, emerging from the other side. Her red blouse still visible in the darkness, ponytail flowing behind her. She looked at the seat and frowned,
"Where is everyone?" They looked around, moving as they did, horses and riders were no where to be seen. The usually audible sound of hoofed clicking absent.
"Christian?" She asked again, but he didn't reply. Seeing his anxiety she licked her lips nervously.
"Alanna!?" he shouted it eyes skimming the darkness looking for red hair. Sarah copied.
"Nathaniel!?"
The black mare started to snort insistently. It wouldn't stand still, it's front hoof slamming up and down against the stone. "Hush boy." Sarah comforted stroking it's nose as she watched Christian disappear to the back of the carriage still shouting names. The horse still moved anxiously from hoof to hoof, as if the stones beneath it were on fire.
"Alanna?!" She shouted still looking about, chewing her lip nervously.
"Arram?!" she shouted even louder this time.
Nothing.
"Jareth?" Not so loudly this time, almost as if she was scared to form the words.
Nothing, it was almost as if they had disappeared off the face of this earth, she corrected herself, off the face of Nefar.
"Uhhhh....." An indistinguishable noise came from a ditch on the left side of the road. She wondered if she'd imagined it.
"Uhhh..." Louder this time, and for real as Christian had heard it to. He ran to the ditch, supporting himself on the steep mossy side as he edged down to the bottom. Patting the black mare one last time she followed, her ponytail whipping in the wind which was starting to get stronger. She started to feel queasy.
Cautiously, yet still quickly she scrambled down to the bottom of the ditch to find Christian bent over at the bottom. "Uhh..."
Sarah realised this time the noise was a groan. Brushing her hair behind her ears she moved to stand behind the dark haired man. Nathaniel lay, his leg sprawled at a strange angle, blood seeping from the wound. She gasped. Christian proceeded to wipe beads of sweat from his friend's moisture ridden forehead. He was shaking his head, "Bloody typical, couldn't do the same leg could they?" Nathaniel grunted, close to sheer exhaustion but still had to make a wisecrack.
"Be quiet."
Nathaniel swallowed, his lids drooping, breathing becoming shallower and shallower. "Christian," His friend tried to quiet him but he wouldn't have it, brushing the hand from his lips, "Leave me, get out, they'll come back, Sarah's our only hope now, get her out of here."
"What happened?" Sarah asked, bracing herself against the mound, otherwise she would fall over in the mud which covered most of Nathaniel's body, marks smeared about his face, merging with blood. Hard rain started to pelt down on their heads, plastering Christian's black hair to his head, and making Sarah's shirt cling to her body. Nathaniel tried to blink away the ruthless droplets, clutching at scarce breathes.
Christian ignored Nathaniel's warnings and hooked his head under the man's armpit, pulling him over his shoulder, Nathaniel moaned in pain. He pushed against the other man preventing him from pulling him onto his back and eventually lay back in the ditch. The rain was starting to flood the ditch, small mudstreams now flowing down the sides, covering them all. Amidst the scent of the fresh rain, Sarah smelt something, something familiar, horribly familiar.
Christian stood tapping his foot trying to think of a way to carry the man out of the steep ditch, pushing
his drenched hair out of his eyes. But it was impossible, the sides were muddy and water logged, the grass damp, it would be hard enough to scramble up there himself. If only he had some rope
Sarah swallowed and began to shake, but not because of the ice rain, "Christian." Despite the cascading water he heard her, and turned to see what she wanted. Then he smelt it too. Looking back at Nathaniel, then at the mound, then at Nathaniel again. His eyes looked everywhere, filled with panic. Think Christian think, he thought. Sarah looked upwards the whole of her body shaking uncontrollably like spasms, close to hyperventilating. Looked upwards to the top of the ditch wondering what would find them if they didn't move soon. She edged against a mound the whole of her back becoming plastered in mud.
"They're coming. Go." Shaky words. Dying words.
They both looked at the man laid inbetween what was now like a muddy swamp. Shaking and barely breathing. His eyes shut tightly.
"Go." He said it louder this time, taking all of what strength was left.
"Goodbye Nathaniel." A few tears fell as she knelt to kiss his soaking wet forehead, pushing past a dazed Christian, torn between survival and staying with a friend.
"Goodbye Sarah." He whispered, unable to do anything more. She tore her eyes from him, or else she would start to sob. A man braver then anyone gave him merit for, she thought, more then a useless drunk. Knowing that it was now or never, she clambered up the ditch side, slipping and sliding in the mud. Constantly losing her footing. Swallowing the rain and salty tears she stared upwards at the sky and the moon, her aim, and cursed all the powers that be for what they had done to a good man.
"I can't, Nate." Christian said plainly as Sarah heaved herself over the edge, out of view.
He breathed heavily before he was able to reply, "We knew it was going to happen eventually Christian, just a matter of time. Hell who would have thought a drunk like me would get such a heroic ending?" He struggled to laugh but grimaced in uncontrollable pain. Christian swallowed, eyes filling with tears.
"You've always been a hero Nate, always will be."
Nathaniel winced straining to sit upright eyes still closed, "Go you soppy bastard, kill that git for me." And despite the pain and his words a slight smile touched at his goateed mouth.
So before he could change his mind and refusing to cry Christian left him. Clambering swiftly up the muddy sides, breathing through his nostrils, filled with such rage and hate he shook. He couldn't bear to look behind him at the slumped body of one of his closest friends.
"Sarah!"
Christian heaved himself over the muddy edge and pulled himself to his feet, trying to see through the hail.
"Christian run!!" Sarah's voice rang out in the darkness, immediately filling him with worry and dread.
His head darted to his left, and he squinted to see in the darkness.
"Nuh, uh uh, precious, no fun if he's expecting it."
Rugar held the young girl in his tight hold, one hand now clamped around her mouth the other twisting her arm behind her back. Her eyes were wide open and white, completely petrified. She shook her head, trying to get him to run. Like hell he would. Her hair tie had fallen out and wet hair dripped rain around her onto the floor. Rugar edged backwards heavily booted foots almost sinking in the mud but still holding her, surrounded by smirking cenotaurs.
"You bastard." Christian snarled.
Rugar smiled, "Christian, it's not possible. We've both got the same mother remember. We're brothers." His bristled chin glistened with moisture and Christian was disgusted at the truth of his words.
"You know this is nothing to do with anyone but Jareth and me, so why don't you let Sarah go."
Rugar sneered, jagged teeth shining. "I know, but that doesn't stop it being fun. Alanna and Arram will tide the time over nicely until I've decided just how to kill you and my darling brother...and as for my delicious Sarah..."
He was cut off as Christian flew at him, too fast and too skilled a fighter for the cenotaurs to react in time. Sarah was knocked to a heap on the muddy ground and Christian lay on top of his brother, face twisted in rage, his hands around Rugar's neck, but his enemy merely smiled.
"Come now brother," The voice was a strained whisper as his larynx was almost being crushed, despite his precarious position Rugar still grinned broadly eye's crazed but ecstatic, "The game's only just begun."
And then Christian's world went black.