My thanks to those who have taken the time to e-mail me or leave reviews for this story on ff.net. It's definitely appreciated.

As always, special thanks to my beta, Scattered Logic, who keeps me sane and continues to inspire me when my muse is down. Also thanks to her for her invaluable editing skills. Also thanks to The Hooded Crow and Lady Jamie, for their continued enthusiasm, comments and inspiration.

Chapter 9: A step in the right direction

The world was hazy as her eyelids fluttered open. She felt warm and content but all she could see was a white haze. Panicked, she began to toss and was met with pain.

"Easy…" A soft voice whispered.

Her eyelids shot open and she was met with the sight of the Goblin King sitting beside her bed. Surprised by his presence, she attempted to move again and pain shot through her wrists as rope dug into her skin. She winced and then remembering who sat beside her, she tried to hide the pain.

Soft leather brushed against her skin as Jareth untied the ropes that bound her to the posts of the bed. Once free, Sarah pulled her hands to her chest. Why had she been tied? "What are you doing here?" she snapped. Awakening to find the Goblin King by her bed didn't sit well with her.

Jareth seemed genuinely surprised by Sarah's angry tone, but a mask of cool indifference replaced the surprise in seconds. "Let me see your wrists," he demanded.

Sarah pulled away further from him. Glancing down, she noticed that she had slept in a dress, a rather revealing dress, and it was now wrinkled. She felt as if she was in a haze of some sort. Everything around her looked strange. Her eyes came to focus on Jareth who raised his brows. Something looked different about him. His hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail and his outfit…She felt disoriented and it took her several moments to realize that Jareth was dressed in a British uniform. Another few moments were needed to remember where they both were and what century it was.

She let out a deep sigh.

Jareth only watched her. "Your wrists…"

Sarah pulled her hands away from her chest and frowned as she saw the deep red marks that surrounded her wrists. She didn't see the fiery anger flash through Jareth's eyes as he examined her wrists from a short distance.

"Incompetents," he snapped. "I made it clear that he wasn't to tie you too tightly." At Sarah's confused expression, he continued. "Look what he's done." Jareth gently touched her red wrists, brushing his fingers carefully over the raw flesh. Sarah hissed at the pain and Jareth released her. "If I had my magic…" He started.

Sarah had not heard him speak of his magic for days now. At times she completely forgot that she was with the Goblin King. How could she believe that the man beside her was the King of a magical world when he had no magic and was dressed as he was?

"I'll heal." Sarah told him softly.

"That isn't the point. I could heal this if I had my magic." Jareth pushed.

'Yes, well, you don't have your magic. Just…just leave it." She told him. She could tell that he didn't want to let this lie, but she forced him to. "You brought me breakfast." She gave him a slight smile. A cup of steaming tea and a plate with eggs and biscuits sat waiting for her on the table. Smoothing her dress, she rose from the bed and moved to the food. Jareth didn't say a word as he watched her reach for the cup of tea.

As soon as Sarah lifted the cup, pain shot through her wrist and with a startled cry, she released the cup. It shattered on the table, white porcelain scattering everywhere while the tea spilled all over the ground.

Jareth was on his feet in an instant. "John, get in here, now," he ordered.

The young man scrambled through the entrance of the tent. "Yes, General?" John stood straight and tall, ready to obey his commanding officer's orders.

Jareth tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "Come here and see your handy work."

"General, this isn't necessary." Sarah told Jareth through gritted teeth.

John came to stand beside Jareth. The young soldier looked confused.

"Hold out your hands," Jareth ordered. Sarah let out a frustrated sigh and lifted her hands out over the table.

Jareth took one of Sarah's hands into his and gently turned it. "See what tying the rope too tightly does? You've hurt her."

John nodded. "I didn't mean to, General. I was just afraid that she would escape."

Jareth's brows rose. "To where? She is miles from help and I don't think she would be stupid enough to brave the elements on her own. You do this again and you will be scrubbing dishes and cleaning up after the horses. Have I made myself clear?"

John lowered his head. "Yes, General."

"Get bandages and something to treat this," Jareth ordered. His voice was dripping with ice and the sound of it made Sarah shiver.

"Right away, General." John left the tent faster than Sarah thought a person could leave.

"You didn't have to do that." Sarah told Jareth as soon as John was gone.

Jareth turned to her, his expression still icy cold. "Yes, I did. Give these people a little slack and they think they can walk all over you. He hurt you and he will pay for that."

"It was an accident from the sound of things. He just didn't want me escaping. He was doing his job. You asked him to guard me and he was."

Jareth put his hands on his hips, his stance challenging. "I also asked that he not tie the ropes too tightly and he disobeyed."

Sarah's expression became as cold and frightening as Jareth's. "What's the matter? Feeling guilty because this is your fault?"

Jareth practically snorted at her words.

"Apparently guilt is something you are unfamiliar with," Sarah told him. "What was I thinking to believe that you might feel such a thing? You're a selfish conceited jerk just like your Colonel."

"Don't compare me to that…that vile man." Jareth spat. His brows lowered over his eyes.

Sarah smirked. "Oh, is that the best you can do?"

"Don't toy with me."

"Believe me, I don't want to," Sarah spat back. She got to her feet and moved away to sit on the bed.

"I've brought you food. Eat before it gets cold," Jareth ordered.

"I'm not hungry."

"Don't lie to me," Jareth warned her.

"Go back to your men, General." She crossed her arms over her chest still refusing to look at him.

"Don't mock me, Sarah. I am doing the best I can given the situation."

"You should have left me in the woods." Sarah spoke aloud, speaking more to herself than to Jareth. She said nothing for a moment as if gathering her thoughts and then turned to face him. "Why did you tell them that I was a spy? So you could enjoy watching me suffer? Is this some kind of revenge? Tie me up and order me around?"

Jareth shot her an incredulous look. He moved away from her and began to pace, his hands clasped together behind his back. "What else could I have done, Sarah?" He purposely ignored her claims of revenge. "Have you forgotten that I am a stranger to this world? I don't know how things work here. What if I had claimed that you were my wife, and I had one back at camp that I didn't know about? Or a sister and I did not have one. It would have revealed our deception quite nicely and we could have been killed. I do not yet know who General George Thompson is. I can not make up stories about his and now my life. You as my prisoner was the only way I could protect you."

Sarah's brows lowered over her eyes. "I don't need protecting..."

"Yes, you do. I have seen how they treat some of the women here. You need a man to protect you."

Sarah snorted and Jareth glared at her waiting for her to insult him further.

Sarah sighed. "So what is the point of all of this? We've been here for two days. Where's your big plan?"

"Plan?" Jareth looked slightly confused.

Sarah felt her heart sink into her stomach. She lowered her head. "Never mind."

Jareth opened his mouth to speak, but Sarah cut him off. "So, I see how it is. You live the life of a King while I'm the ill-treated prisoner."

Jareth's eyes narrowed. "You forget that I am a King, Sarah."

Sarah glared angrily at him. She gritted her teeth. "I haven't forgotten."

Jareth sighed at her angry tone. This was not going as he had hoped. "I did not come here to argue with you."

"Then why did you come?" She asked defiantly.

"I came to make certain that you were all right," he snarled. "Or would you like to find a problem with my concern as well?"

Sarah sighed and lowered her head. "I'm sorry." She heard Jareth sigh and he sat himself in the chair at the table that she had vacated. His expression became tired.

"This…is not easy on me, Sarah. You may believe it is, seeing me dressed like royalty, ordering men around, but in reality, this is just as difficult for me as it is for you."

Sarah lifted her head to gaze at him. Jareth's glance was far off. He was looking at her and yet at the same time he wasn't. Sarah realized that he seemed to be admitting his uneasiness to her more often. She was not sure to be touched or uncertain by this.

She let out a deep sigh and at the sound Jareth's eyes met hers. "I miss home." She allowed softly.

Jareth's icy expression had long since left and concern mixed with something else. He swallowed and gave a sad smile. "I only hope that my goblins are not destroying what little there is left of the Labyrinth."

His voice held sadness. Sarah felt her heart ache at the thought of the Labyrinth in ruin. Were her friends all right? Had they been affected by the destruction? Sarah lowered her head, breaking eye contact with Jareth. She squeezed her eyes shut as tears began to form. They pricked at her eyelids and before she could stop herself, she was crying. She was horrified as the tears streamed down her cheeks and attempting to stop them only made her hiccup and cough.

She forced herself to stop sobbing like a child and when she glanced up at Jareth, her breath caught in her throat. He was staring at her with such concern in his eyes. Sarah rubbed at her own eyes and wiped the tears away. Taking a deep breath, she pulled herself together. Had she really just fallen apart like that in front of him?

Jareth opened his mouth to speak, but John had returned.

"I have the bandages and some ointment," he called hesitantly from the entrance.

'Bring it here," Jareth ordered harshly.

John entered and Jareth ordered him to put it on the table and leave. John did so hastily.

"Now, let's see about those wrists, hmm?" Jareth reached for the small glass jar that he assumed was ointment. He unscrewed the metal cover, coughed as the smell reached his nose and made a disgusted face. Glancing cautiously into the jar, he saw that the ointment was a waxy substance with a putrid smell.

"You are NOT putting that on my wrists." Sarah told him firmly. "I'll walk around smelling like something died."

Jareth coughed and quickly covered the jar. "I dare say that something might have died in this bottle. It smells like some concoction that my goblins would have created." He made a face and Sarah found herself laughing.

Laughing! She had just been crying and now she was laughing.

Jareth's brows arched delicately over his eyes. "You find that amusing?"

"It's just your tone…you…" Jareth gave her a blank stare as she mumbled. She smiled warmly. "Yes, I do find it amusing."

A smile tugged at Jareth's lips and he picked up the bottle into his gloved hands, studying it carefully. "Perhaps if I put some of this on myself it would keep Colonel Rochester away. I'd smell so badly that he would want nothing to do with me."

The thought of Jareth covering himself in the ointment and the looks that she knew he would receive sent Sarah reeling.

As Jareth realized what he had just suggested, even in jest, he began to laugh out loud.

Jareth's deep laughter was a wonderful sound to Sarah's ears. She had never heard him laugh like this before. She laughed along with him and when she stopped, she couldn't take her eyes off of him. The sight of him holding his side as he laughed was something Sarah knew she would not easily forget. Who would have thought that the Goblin King had a sense of humor?

Jareth had finally quieted down though his eyes still sparkled with merriment. He noticed Sarah's expression. She was staring at him with such a sense of wonderment. "What is it?" He asked softly.

Sarah quickly tried to hide the fact that Jareth intrigued her and that once again she'd been caught staring. She quickly looked for an escape of some kind. "I…it's just your hair."

Jareth gave her a quizzical look. "My hair? What of it?" He watched as she gazed at his golden locks, her hand hovered in mid air by her chest, almost as if she wanted to reach out and touch it.

"I'm just not used to such a change. It pulled back and all." She shrugged trying to hide her discomfort.

Jareth gave a disgusted expression for a moment. "I do not like to wear it in such a style. I'm unaccustomed to it and I only wear it like this because it helps me to fit in." He continued to glance at Sarah, his eyes roaming over her face. She was still gazing at his hair. "Are you saying that you prefer to see my hair wild and untamed?"

Sarah nodded ever so slightly. "It seems more… you that way. If that makes sense," she added.

Jareth reached back with one hand and pulled at the ribbon that kept his hair tied back.

Sarah's eyes widened. "Oh, I didn't mean that you had to take it down."

But it was too late. The ribbon fell from his hair and the blond locks cascaded down Jareth's shoulders. With a toss of his head, Jareth's unruly hair was back.

"Better?" He asked raising a brow.

"Much." Sarah smiled. Her hand still hovered in mid air and slowly it reached forward. When she realized what she was doing, she snatched her hand back as if burned by the very thought of touching him.

"No, it's all right," Jareth whispered softly. The thought of her wanting to touch his hair pleased him, but Sarah seemed disturbed now. Jareth sighed. He realized that they had both come very far in the course of one morning and he didn't want to push things.

Taking a chance, he reached for her hands, watching her surprised expression. He was pleased when she did not pull away. He carefully took her hands into his, caressing them for a moment. He cautiously looked at Sarah. Her expression was one of curiosity.

Jareth continued to brush his leather encased fingers over Sarah's hands. He watched as her eyes filled with pain for a moment and felt her wince slightly as one of his fingers slid lower and accidentally touched her enflamed wrist. Silently cursing his loss of magic and his inability to help her, he did the only thing that he could do. He wrapped her wrists with the cloth bandaging. When he was finished, he stood and straightened his jacket.

"I should go. I have much to do." He said hastily and he began to walk away.

"Will I see you tonight?"

Jareth turned, surprised by the question. His lips curved into a smile. Sarah's expression was that of a child. Innocent, hopeful. "If that is what you want."

She nodded.

Jareth gave a faint smile. "Until later then. Good day, Sarah."

* * *

"Have you retrieved any information from the prisoner?"

Jareth pulled his feet quickly off the table he had propped them up on and hid the journal that he had been reading. He was thankful that he had immediately tied his hair back up after visiting Sarah so his appearance was acceptable. These unexpected entrances had to stop.

Jareth's brows lowered over his eyes as he glared at Colonel Rochester. "Have you always been this ill-mannered?"

"I beg your pardon, my lord?" Rochester's voice was calm.

"Just barging into the General's tent as if you owned the place."

Rochester made a face. He had owned it once. "You have my apologies, my lord."

"They'll be accepted when I see a change in your manners."

"Have you retrieved anything new from our prisoner?" Rochester asked ignoring Jareth's previous words.

Jareth smirked. "Why yes, today I learned how much starch to add to the laundry." Jareth's smirk widened as Rochester gritted his teeth together.

Rochester smiled deviously. "I'm sure that information will be very useful in our war with the colonists. You'd do well to accept my counsel, my lord." Jareth raised his brows at that. "The woman holds no important information, hang her and put her body on display. The colonists will not defy us."

Jareth got to his feet. "I will not hang her." He said firmly.

Rochester stepped closer to Jareth. "Why?" They stood face to face.

An image of Sarah of being strung up flashed into Jareth's mind. It took all his will power to keep himself from closing his eyes to shake the horrible sight. He narrowed his eyes at Rochester. "Because I will not."

Rochester shook his head, the smirk still on his face. "I see." His smirk widened and then he strode from the tent in long victorious strides.

Jareth let out the deep breath he didn't realize that he had been holding. He quickly hid the journal and went to see Sarah.