King of Dreams, Owner of None
by Bunniko
AN:?Yay! 3 more days and the cast comes off! Anywho, another chapter with oblique references to me and my friends. So again, there's some stuff I own. I own: Trixie/Jeannie, Melinda, Deborah, Rikki, Solei and other things as they appear. I do not own: Texas (bummer), England (yay!), the Labyrinth (sniffle), Jareth, Sarah, etc. To my real life friends: See if you can find yourself. Did I write you in? lol
Please Note: The story is set 5 years after the movie.
So on with the story! (Sore ni, hanashi o tsuzukeru!)
Chapter Eight - Sarah's Eyes
Sarah had long since calmed down. She sat at the vanity in the bedroom she shared with Phillip, in the house she lived in alone. Sitting on the vanity was the book that had started everything. For five years, she had kept it locked away in various vanities, as a reminder. He was always watching, always waiting. If she slipped up, he would draw her back to him, lure her back.
She had cut ties with the Labyrinth inhabitants after that horrible night. Now that she knew for certain he had been watching her, she wanted to control it as much as possible. She didn't want him to feel like he was invited as well if she called the others. She didn't want to put herself in a position where his magic would wind around her. She'd learned quickly. She'd been in a dangerous place the entire time he was around her. The love she had imagined in his eyes on the night her dreams came true, she now dismissed as lust. She'd easily seen the possessiveness in his eyes when he'd said he loved her.
How she'd regretted the ending to their confrontation. She'd felt so guilty for hurting him, defeating him, that she had let him back in only a week later. But she was stronger now, different now. She could handle him, because, despite his magic, he was just a man. And men are so easy to handle, she smirked.
She gazed at herself in the mirror, noting and reveling in the changes. Little Honey was nowhere to be found in those eyes. They were as hard and cold as the frozen earth in winter when she thought of Jareth. He had taken everything from her, her innocence, her dreams, even her happiness. She had lost her best friend, as well.
Thinking of Trixie hurt. It was like a physical pain whenever she let herself think about the deceptions she had employed to keep Trixie out of her real life. She wanted to protect Trixie from what she thought of as Jareth's destructive touch. And now, because she had realized it was the only way to save her, she had sent the one person she cared enough about to protect, directly into the hands of the one person she would love to disembowel.
Sarah couldn't explain why she hated him so. But the anger was something she fed carefully. Convinced he watched her, certain that he was like an unseen stalker, that little prickle that warned she wasn't alone, she lived her life as if on his own private stage. At first, she had hated him for that. She hated that she never knew if she was alone or not, if her silly or stupid actions were being watched. And then an idea had taken shape.
When she'd staged her first kiss, she was ecstatic. Knowing he had to have seen it, had to be furiously jealous, she felt a thrumming of power rushing through her. She enjoyed every kiss she and Jake shared, more for the fact that Jareth was probably fuming yet unable to not watch than for the kiss itself. But when Jake had decided it was time to move further, Sarah hadn't been able to make herself continue the charade. She had broken up with him instead.
That was when the arguments began. She would look into her mirror and pretend he was confronting her. She railed and ranted, perfecting her arguments, so that the next time he showed up, it would be her turn to slash him apart with cruel words. Her mind took things a bit further. She imagined herself seducing him, imagined his eyes as he thought he was getting what he wanted. She saw him putting himself into her power in order to have her and then, just when he couldn't take the suspense any longer, she would coolly walk away.
But to do that, she needed to learn how, she mused. She practiced attracting boys and had lots of dates, while Karen clucked worriedly about all these boys coming and going. She couldn't go shopping without some gawky teenage boy asking her what kind of flowers Sarah liked or what music she listened to. She couldn't understand how Sarah had so quickly become so popular. Sarah seemed the same to her. Neither she nor Robert knew that as soon as Sarah rounded the corner from her house, the loose shirt came off to reveal a much sexier one and in the school bathroom, the jeans were changed to flirty skirts, her hairstyle was altered, even her shoes were switched. She worked hard to keep her new style hidden from her parents. The deeper she slipped into the dual-life, the more addicted she became to it.
She lost her virginity when she was 17. It hadn't been the amazing thing of story books, but the best reward was the pain she was certain Jareth was suffering. From then on, she had a string of lovers, some much older than her, and some younger. She chose them carefully, not wanting to deal with someone who would become too attached or violent or someone that would cheat on her. She was very careful about disease and pregnancy, as she wasn't interested in either option. She also chose her lovers for what they could do for her. She still wanted to act, so her latest lover was Phillip, a TV and movie producer. He was one of her few married lovers, but Phillip was worth that risk and the reputation she got. He got her roles, most often in plays, but occasionally in TV pilots. None of the pilots had been picked up yet, but he assured her that sooner or later an exec would notice her and choose her for something bigger.
Course, Phillip was too smart to let his mistress suddenly gain a big career. He knew that Sarah didn't love him. He could see something almost cruel in her eyes whenever they had sex, as if she was . . . well, he wasn't sure. He didn't love her, either, but she was beautiful, willing and honest. She wouldn't cheat on him and as long as she was his mistress, other men looked at him with envy. The only thing that ever made him feel a little bad about their relationship was the look of pained tolerance his wife often wore. But, usually, he tried not to think about it.
In Sarah's mind, she had perfect control over all men, but one. She would never admit it, but she had eagerly looked forward to the day when Jareth would appear, insulted, outraged, and demanding to know how she could do this to him. She really hadn't expected to wait 'til 20; but now that he had shown up, she had to confess, though only to herself, she was practically dying for the long-awaited knock-down-drag-out fight that she was certain she would win.
And yet, she mused, Jareth was a cold bastard. It was very probable that he had simply decided to keep Trix. It would be one form of revenge, she knew. Though she had long since gotten rid of any guilt over beating Jareth to save Toby, surely he knew she would never get over the guilt of giving him Trixie. She wondered what the Goblin King did with adults. She shivered, suddenly feeling cold. What had she done?
Leaving the window wide open, just in case he did show up, she laid down to take a nap. But restful sleep didn't come. Trixie's battered face kept rising up before her. Could Jareth really save her? And if he did come, if he did allow her to face the Labyrinth again, what would he do to cheat this time? How would he have changed the Labyrinth now? "Where are you, you wretched bastard?" she hissed.
Jareth was exhausted. He and his two most skilled physicians had wrestled with magic for hours. Human bodies were so frail, he worried. Could she withstand the influx of so much magic? Her brain was swelling, her skull crushed on the right side, her vitals so very weak. And yet, he could see she was fighting for life. She wasn't about to give up, which gave him great hope. If only . . .
"Sire, she's been yelling." an elfling boy of perhaps 13 advised quietly.
He didn't need to say anything else. Jareth knew immediately who. His thoughts of catching a few desperately needed hours of sleep receded. He needed to face her; there was no way around it. And he knew it would be painful. He'd heard the disdain, no, outright loathing in her voice. She despises me, he mourned. But his arrogant side answered back, "After all you did for her, the impudent wretch." He nodded his acknowledgement to the boy and vanished.
Jareth entered through the window, to find Sarah lying on her bed. Though she now lived in this rental house, he felt very uncomfortable being back in her bedroom. The attack on Trixie still left him with the sour taste of guilt. He hadn't acted so very different from that pig. Both had been upset by a girl's comments and both had reacted with violence. His had destroyed Sarah's love for him and her innocent nature. Vince's had destroyed Trixie's head and perhaps might still destroy her life. Even if she survived, she might be afraid of men. He wondered briefly if Sarah was afraid of him.
Sarah awoke, and a deep jarring sense of weirdness filled her as she noticed Jareth in her room. It was too invasive, she thought angrily. There was much she had concealed from Trixie. This wasn't the way she had thought the argument would start. Too late now, she thought as she saw that he knew. What stung her was that he was shocked. He hadn't been watching her, she realized. It was like ice water sluicing over her. Everything she had done, the revenge she had thought she was getting, and he hadn't been watching. Her mind whirled.
All Jareth had to do was look in her eyes to see it. Like a rush of memories, he could see what she had become. It wasn't what he had expected. He could see that her eyes were her weapon. She used them as Cleopatra had, seducing a man from a distance. But he also saw that she had honed their cruelty. Her eyes were like daggers, rending into his soul. And as he looked into her eyes harder, he saw what he had been trying to ignore since she had said the words. It was in her. The Labyrinth was inside her. Suddenly he understood. And he realized that she didn't.
She spoke suddenly, words flying out like pieces of broken glass spun out by a car tire. "You bastard! Where is she? What did you do to her?" She was still convinced that Jareth had something to do with the attack on Trixie. She had never seen Vince, not noticing him amongst all the other garbage.
He looked sad. "She is . . . resting. I don't know if she will come around. But she is alive." He wished he could sound more reassuring. He should have let her wait, he thought tiredly. His body felt so heavy.
"And trapped. That was your will, was it not? You attacked her, then forced me to wish her away into your lecherous grip."
Jareth was annoyed at her obsession with his sex life, but let it slide. "No! I . . . she summoned me to save her. She was attacked by someone she once dated." He held up a crystal, showing her Vincent's face. Sarah didn't recognize him. "How could you have thought I attacked her?" he scolded. "I only come when summoned."
"How vampiric." she snapped, ignoring his questioning look. "Did I summon you that night? When I was talking to her?" she demanded.
"You said my name in a soft tone of longing." He smiled slightly, through the pain and disappointment. "Invitation enough."
"I didn't need you!" His eyes narrowed. "And I suppose you have just conveniently forgotten to allow me to challenge you for her. You've trapped her there!"
He sighed. "As long as the right to challenge is not waived at the time I offer it, the wisher may initiate the challenge simply by summoning me and demanding it." Sarah opened her mouth, but he gestured for silence. "But it would be advisable to wait. When Trixie is recovered enough to return to above ground, then you should challenge me."
"While you try to convince her to stay, no doubt. Tell me, Jareth, if I should lose, what happens to her?"
Jareth said nothing for a moment. "You won't lose, Sarah. You won before." But inside he was wondering. Even he had no idea what the Labyrinth would do. Since they were bonded, would it help her, or try to keep her. He was so distracted by that riddle; he didn't hear her next comment. "What?"
She sighed in annoyance. "What about the people here who will be worried about her? They will call the police!"
It was Jareth's turn to heave an annoyed sigh. Life above ground had to be such a hassle. "Well, what should we do about that?"
Sarah sat down and thought about that for a moment. "I have one of her friend's numbers. I could call her. But no doubt Melinda will want to know why Jeannie didn't call herself." she murmured to herself, thinking. "Can you make me sound like her?" Jareth nodded. "Well, let's do that then." Sarah didn't sound enthusiastic, but then, she really didn't want to cooperate with him in the first place.
A moment later, Sarah was talking to a very grumpy Melinda. "Jeannie, is that you? Why is the connection so bad?"
"I'm calling from the airport. Sarah's sick and needs me. Can you call the college tomorrow and tell them a family emergency has come up?"
"You're going to England? How? You said you were broke!" There was an angry tone to her voice that Sarah didn't understand.
"Sarah's paying." she excused lamely.
"Well, must be nice to have a rich friend." Mel sniffed. "Why should I lie to the college for you?"
"Because I'd do it for you!" was all Sarah could think of. Jeannie called this girl a best friend? Why? She seemed very unkind. But then, Sarah rationalized, the girl thought she was talking to Jeannie. She probably had reasons for what a stranger would call rude indifference.
The phrase must have been the right choice, for a moment later, Mel grudgingly agreed to tell the college. "But next time," she grumbled, "don't call at 2 am." Then she hung up.
Oh. Well, 2 am. Sarah could understand that. She shrugged. But even with all that she kept from Trix, if she called, Sarah was there, no matter what time. Yet, she scolded herself, friends come in all kinds and one is not necessarily better than another.
Sarah placed the phone on the hook. "There, I've just placed my closest friend completely into my enemy's hands." She sank down onto the bed. "What have I done?"
Jareth was getting really sick of her distrust of him. "I would never hurt her." he insisted strongly.
Sarah looked over at him, her unmanageable temper at the moment silenced by self-doubt. How can I believe that." It was not a question, and there was no time for Jareth to respond. The front door opened and a booming voice called out to her. Mechanically, she rose. "Leave!" she commanded Jareth, then took a deep breath and composed her face before running downstairs to greet her lover.
Jareth didn't leave right away. In owl form he watched the whore and john using each other. But the sight of that man kissing his Sarah, of her hands pulling quickly at his shirt; it sickened him. He flew away, repulsed, disappointed and scolding himself. After all, she wasn't his. She had defied him, even in that. He swooped darkly against the moon, an anger washing over him. She was his, he screeched in owl language. Not that man's, not any man's! As he returned to it, the Labyrinth seemed to agree.
"Mine!" the maze seemed to say. Jareth felt it. "Ours." he corrected. The mighty maze simply declined to reply.
*********
Well, there's Chapter 8. Do review, please. Or direct any flames to fieryfaerie@yahoo.com. All reactions, opinions welcome. Do tell me what you think. Or don't. See ya for Chapter 9.
by Bunniko
AN:?Yay! 3 more days and the cast comes off! Anywho, another chapter with oblique references to me and my friends. So again, there's some stuff I own. I own: Trixie/Jeannie, Melinda, Deborah, Rikki, Solei and other things as they appear. I do not own: Texas (bummer), England (yay!), the Labyrinth (sniffle), Jareth, Sarah, etc. To my real life friends: See if you can find yourself. Did I write you in? lol
Please Note: The story is set 5 years after the movie.
So on with the story! (Sore ni, hanashi o tsuzukeru!)
Chapter Eight - Sarah's Eyes
Sarah had long since calmed down. She sat at the vanity in the bedroom she shared with Phillip, in the house she lived in alone. Sitting on the vanity was the book that had started everything. For five years, she had kept it locked away in various vanities, as a reminder. He was always watching, always waiting. If she slipped up, he would draw her back to him, lure her back.
She had cut ties with the Labyrinth inhabitants after that horrible night. Now that she knew for certain he had been watching her, she wanted to control it as much as possible. She didn't want him to feel like he was invited as well if she called the others. She didn't want to put herself in a position where his magic would wind around her. She'd learned quickly. She'd been in a dangerous place the entire time he was around her. The love she had imagined in his eyes on the night her dreams came true, she now dismissed as lust. She'd easily seen the possessiveness in his eyes when he'd said he loved her.
How she'd regretted the ending to their confrontation. She'd felt so guilty for hurting him, defeating him, that she had let him back in only a week later. But she was stronger now, different now. She could handle him, because, despite his magic, he was just a man. And men are so easy to handle, she smirked.
She gazed at herself in the mirror, noting and reveling in the changes. Little Honey was nowhere to be found in those eyes. They were as hard and cold as the frozen earth in winter when she thought of Jareth. He had taken everything from her, her innocence, her dreams, even her happiness. She had lost her best friend, as well.
Thinking of Trixie hurt. It was like a physical pain whenever she let herself think about the deceptions she had employed to keep Trixie out of her real life. She wanted to protect Trixie from what she thought of as Jareth's destructive touch. And now, because she had realized it was the only way to save her, she had sent the one person she cared enough about to protect, directly into the hands of the one person she would love to disembowel.
Sarah couldn't explain why she hated him so. But the anger was something she fed carefully. Convinced he watched her, certain that he was like an unseen stalker, that little prickle that warned she wasn't alone, she lived her life as if on his own private stage. At first, she had hated him for that. She hated that she never knew if she was alone or not, if her silly or stupid actions were being watched. And then an idea had taken shape.
When she'd staged her first kiss, she was ecstatic. Knowing he had to have seen it, had to be furiously jealous, she felt a thrumming of power rushing through her. She enjoyed every kiss she and Jake shared, more for the fact that Jareth was probably fuming yet unable to not watch than for the kiss itself. But when Jake had decided it was time to move further, Sarah hadn't been able to make herself continue the charade. She had broken up with him instead.
That was when the arguments began. She would look into her mirror and pretend he was confronting her. She railed and ranted, perfecting her arguments, so that the next time he showed up, it would be her turn to slash him apart with cruel words. Her mind took things a bit further. She imagined herself seducing him, imagined his eyes as he thought he was getting what he wanted. She saw him putting himself into her power in order to have her and then, just when he couldn't take the suspense any longer, she would coolly walk away.
But to do that, she needed to learn how, she mused. She practiced attracting boys and had lots of dates, while Karen clucked worriedly about all these boys coming and going. She couldn't go shopping without some gawky teenage boy asking her what kind of flowers Sarah liked or what music she listened to. She couldn't understand how Sarah had so quickly become so popular. Sarah seemed the same to her. Neither she nor Robert knew that as soon as Sarah rounded the corner from her house, the loose shirt came off to reveal a much sexier one and in the school bathroom, the jeans were changed to flirty skirts, her hairstyle was altered, even her shoes were switched. She worked hard to keep her new style hidden from her parents. The deeper she slipped into the dual-life, the more addicted she became to it.
She lost her virginity when she was 17. It hadn't been the amazing thing of story books, but the best reward was the pain she was certain Jareth was suffering. From then on, she had a string of lovers, some much older than her, and some younger. She chose them carefully, not wanting to deal with someone who would become too attached or violent or someone that would cheat on her. She was very careful about disease and pregnancy, as she wasn't interested in either option. She also chose her lovers for what they could do for her. She still wanted to act, so her latest lover was Phillip, a TV and movie producer. He was one of her few married lovers, but Phillip was worth that risk and the reputation she got. He got her roles, most often in plays, but occasionally in TV pilots. None of the pilots had been picked up yet, but he assured her that sooner or later an exec would notice her and choose her for something bigger.
Course, Phillip was too smart to let his mistress suddenly gain a big career. He knew that Sarah didn't love him. He could see something almost cruel in her eyes whenever they had sex, as if she was . . . well, he wasn't sure. He didn't love her, either, but she was beautiful, willing and honest. She wouldn't cheat on him and as long as she was his mistress, other men looked at him with envy. The only thing that ever made him feel a little bad about their relationship was the look of pained tolerance his wife often wore. But, usually, he tried not to think about it.
In Sarah's mind, she had perfect control over all men, but one. She would never admit it, but she had eagerly looked forward to the day when Jareth would appear, insulted, outraged, and demanding to know how she could do this to him. She really hadn't expected to wait 'til 20; but now that he had shown up, she had to confess, though only to herself, she was practically dying for the long-awaited knock-down-drag-out fight that she was certain she would win.
And yet, she mused, Jareth was a cold bastard. It was very probable that he had simply decided to keep Trix. It would be one form of revenge, she knew. Though she had long since gotten rid of any guilt over beating Jareth to save Toby, surely he knew she would never get over the guilt of giving him Trixie. She wondered what the Goblin King did with adults. She shivered, suddenly feeling cold. What had she done?
Leaving the window wide open, just in case he did show up, she laid down to take a nap. But restful sleep didn't come. Trixie's battered face kept rising up before her. Could Jareth really save her? And if he did come, if he did allow her to face the Labyrinth again, what would he do to cheat this time? How would he have changed the Labyrinth now? "Where are you, you wretched bastard?" she hissed.
Jareth was exhausted. He and his two most skilled physicians had wrestled with magic for hours. Human bodies were so frail, he worried. Could she withstand the influx of so much magic? Her brain was swelling, her skull crushed on the right side, her vitals so very weak. And yet, he could see she was fighting for life. She wasn't about to give up, which gave him great hope. If only . . .
"Sire, she's been yelling." an elfling boy of perhaps 13 advised quietly.
He didn't need to say anything else. Jareth knew immediately who. His thoughts of catching a few desperately needed hours of sleep receded. He needed to face her; there was no way around it. And he knew it would be painful. He'd heard the disdain, no, outright loathing in her voice. She despises me, he mourned. But his arrogant side answered back, "After all you did for her, the impudent wretch." He nodded his acknowledgement to the boy and vanished.
Jareth entered through the window, to find Sarah lying on her bed. Though she now lived in this rental house, he felt very uncomfortable being back in her bedroom. The attack on Trixie still left him with the sour taste of guilt. He hadn't acted so very different from that pig. Both had been upset by a girl's comments and both had reacted with violence. His had destroyed Sarah's love for him and her innocent nature. Vince's had destroyed Trixie's head and perhaps might still destroy her life. Even if she survived, she might be afraid of men. He wondered briefly if Sarah was afraid of him.
Sarah awoke, and a deep jarring sense of weirdness filled her as she noticed Jareth in her room. It was too invasive, she thought angrily. There was much she had concealed from Trixie. This wasn't the way she had thought the argument would start. Too late now, she thought as she saw that he knew. What stung her was that he was shocked. He hadn't been watching her, she realized. It was like ice water sluicing over her. Everything she had done, the revenge she had thought she was getting, and he hadn't been watching. Her mind whirled.
All Jareth had to do was look in her eyes to see it. Like a rush of memories, he could see what she had become. It wasn't what he had expected. He could see that her eyes were her weapon. She used them as Cleopatra had, seducing a man from a distance. But he also saw that she had honed their cruelty. Her eyes were like daggers, rending into his soul. And as he looked into her eyes harder, he saw what he had been trying to ignore since she had said the words. It was in her. The Labyrinth was inside her. Suddenly he understood. And he realized that she didn't.
She spoke suddenly, words flying out like pieces of broken glass spun out by a car tire. "You bastard! Where is she? What did you do to her?" She was still convinced that Jareth had something to do with the attack on Trixie. She had never seen Vince, not noticing him amongst all the other garbage.
He looked sad. "She is . . . resting. I don't know if she will come around. But she is alive." He wished he could sound more reassuring. He should have let her wait, he thought tiredly. His body felt so heavy.
"And trapped. That was your will, was it not? You attacked her, then forced me to wish her away into your lecherous grip."
Jareth was annoyed at her obsession with his sex life, but let it slide. "No! I . . . she summoned me to save her. She was attacked by someone she once dated." He held up a crystal, showing her Vincent's face. Sarah didn't recognize him. "How could you have thought I attacked her?" he scolded. "I only come when summoned."
"How vampiric." she snapped, ignoring his questioning look. "Did I summon you that night? When I was talking to her?" she demanded.
"You said my name in a soft tone of longing." He smiled slightly, through the pain and disappointment. "Invitation enough."
"I didn't need you!" His eyes narrowed. "And I suppose you have just conveniently forgotten to allow me to challenge you for her. You've trapped her there!"
He sighed. "As long as the right to challenge is not waived at the time I offer it, the wisher may initiate the challenge simply by summoning me and demanding it." Sarah opened her mouth, but he gestured for silence. "But it would be advisable to wait. When Trixie is recovered enough to return to above ground, then you should challenge me."
"While you try to convince her to stay, no doubt. Tell me, Jareth, if I should lose, what happens to her?"
Jareth said nothing for a moment. "You won't lose, Sarah. You won before." But inside he was wondering. Even he had no idea what the Labyrinth would do. Since they were bonded, would it help her, or try to keep her. He was so distracted by that riddle; he didn't hear her next comment. "What?"
She sighed in annoyance. "What about the people here who will be worried about her? They will call the police!"
It was Jareth's turn to heave an annoyed sigh. Life above ground had to be such a hassle. "Well, what should we do about that?"
Sarah sat down and thought about that for a moment. "I have one of her friend's numbers. I could call her. But no doubt Melinda will want to know why Jeannie didn't call herself." she murmured to herself, thinking. "Can you make me sound like her?" Jareth nodded. "Well, let's do that then." Sarah didn't sound enthusiastic, but then, she really didn't want to cooperate with him in the first place.
A moment later, Sarah was talking to a very grumpy Melinda. "Jeannie, is that you? Why is the connection so bad?"
"I'm calling from the airport. Sarah's sick and needs me. Can you call the college tomorrow and tell them a family emergency has come up?"
"You're going to England? How? You said you were broke!" There was an angry tone to her voice that Sarah didn't understand.
"Sarah's paying." she excused lamely.
"Well, must be nice to have a rich friend." Mel sniffed. "Why should I lie to the college for you?"
"Because I'd do it for you!" was all Sarah could think of. Jeannie called this girl a best friend? Why? She seemed very unkind. But then, Sarah rationalized, the girl thought she was talking to Jeannie. She probably had reasons for what a stranger would call rude indifference.
The phrase must have been the right choice, for a moment later, Mel grudgingly agreed to tell the college. "But next time," she grumbled, "don't call at 2 am." Then she hung up.
Oh. Well, 2 am. Sarah could understand that. She shrugged. But even with all that she kept from Trix, if she called, Sarah was there, no matter what time. Yet, she scolded herself, friends come in all kinds and one is not necessarily better than another.
Sarah placed the phone on the hook. "There, I've just placed my closest friend completely into my enemy's hands." She sank down onto the bed. "What have I done?"
Jareth was getting really sick of her distrust of him. "I would never hurt her." he insisted strongly.
Sarah looked over at him, her unmanageable temper at the moment silenced by self-doubt. How can I believe that." It was not a question, and there was no time for Jareth to respond. The front door opened and a booming voice called out to her. Mechanically, she rose. "Leave!" she commanded Jareth, then took a deep breath and composed her face before running downstairs to greet her lover.
Jareth didn't leave right away. In owl form he watched the whore and john using each other. But the sight of that man kissing his Sarah, of her hands pulling quickly at his shirt; it sickened him. He flew away, repulsed, disappointed and scolding himself. After all, she wasn't his. She had defied him, even in that. He swooped darkly against the moon, an anger washing over him. She was his, he screeched in owl language. Not that man's, not any man's! As he returned to it, the Labyrinth seemed to agree.
"Mine!" the maze seemed to say. Jareth felt it. "Ours." he corrected. The mighty maze simply declined to reply.
*********
Well, there's Chapter 8. Do review, please. Or direct any flames to fieryfaerie@yahoo.com. All reactions, opinions welcome. Do tell me what you think. Or don't. See ya for Chapter 9.