Wishes

by mikim

Jareth's sister died, asking him to grant her last wish. 3 years after, he's aboveground and finds Sarah on his path. Or is it he who finds Sarah?

4. Troubles followed Monsters Talk part b

Trouble followed. Monsters talk.

Part b

Hey, here's the following of Sarah's and Jareth's fight. My greatest fear is to have the characters OCC. Please tell me it they are, as I fear them to be!

As usual for the disclaimers.

Alright, this is quite a long part (please, don't get bored, hang on with me!), I should have cut it better, anyway, when I'll update part 4, I'll replace the whole chapter as one. Forgive me for all the trouble!

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The back door led them to a huge garden, almost as wild as a jungle. Palm trees of all heights hid the mansion quite well, while giving shade and turning the garden into a rather secluded place. A paving stone alley was running through the trees and seemed to lead to the house, but Sarah couldn't really tell, as the alley turned sharply to the left just a few feet from where she stood, hiding where it was leading. She could see the first floor terrace of the house, though over the rim of the trees, built like a hacienda, with rich orange and red colors, high arches and white drapes hanging from the ceiling, flowing lightly through the open glass doors.

As they, still following Franck, the muscular doorkeeper, walked past the sharp turn, they almost ran into another man. This one was tall and dark-haired, but lean and almost frail compared to Franck. However, his commanding voice alleviated greatly his frail-looking shoulders. He was dressed in a plain white shirt, over an old-looking too loose blue jeans and a cigarette, hanging dangerously in the corner of his mouth.  "What is it?" He was as surprised as the others were to meet someone here and growling, he snapped, taking the cigarette off his mouth to hold it with his right hand. "Franck!" He turned his fierce gaze from the man to his followers, still growling. "You're not supposed to…" As his gray eyes fell on Sarah's form, he stopped and whispered as if doom day had arrived. "Oh! Sweet Lord…" The cigarette fell soundless on the ground.

"Bless his angels." Charlie nodded.

"Charlie!" Steward hissed. "It's not a time to joke around!" He scowled her but she rolled her eyes at him, a small grin on her lips. Sighing, Steward gave up.

Sariel blinked again and approached them. He put his hands on Sarah's shoulders as if he didn't believe she was there in flesh. "Sarah…" He breathed, flabbergasted. "What…" He started to demand when Charlie stepped forward and he raised his eyes at the movement he caught in the corner of his eyes. "Who are you?" He demanded instead, his voice hard. Franck, behind them, seeing that they were in good hands, retreated to get back to his guarding point.

"Friends." Charlie answered, wrapping an arm around Sarah's waist. She didn't like the way Sariel was looking at Sarah. Sarah was there for Jareth, damn it, not for him. "Sarah and Jareth parted on pretty bad terms this morning and I think Sarah here is willing to give it another try." She leaned forward a little, challenging the man to blame on Sarah what had happened, with all the photos but also risking the band's image.

But Sariel surprised her. He let a small smile cross his lips and turn, showing them the way inside the house. "Sure, this way." He said, gesturing them to follow him.

Sarah was protected by a dragon, it seemed. Sariel would have laughed, if he had been alone. Jareth had mentioned friends, but he would have never thought Sarah's friends were that protective of her. "Excuse my earlier starting but I have to say I'm a bit shocked. Jareth told me more or less what happened and knowing you, Sarah, I'd last expected you coming here on your own…" He started to explain, his eyes bright.

Charlie stopped dead in her tracks and hissed, like a cat on which a bucket of water had been dumped on. "What! Sarah, you know Sariel too?" Sarah was as surprised as Charlie was. She had never met this man before and he was talking like he knew her whole life.

"Have we…" Sarah hesitated. The man, Sariel Charlie had said, was looking at her, locking his eyes with hers.

Old eyes that she knew, eyes of secret and remorse she had often seen, eyes which had glittered with laughter so many times already, eyes she was familiar with, eyes in a mirror, eyes of a small person, someone she knew very well and who knew her as well, eyes of someone who had crossed with her so many hardships and dangers untold… "Oh! My God!" Sarah cried out, surprised. His eyes, they were the same eyes. But, then, what the hell was with that appearance and why the hell was he with Jareth?

"Sarah?" Charlie asked her, confused at her first denial, then affirmation. Man, that girl was so confusing, sometimes.

"Yes!" Sarah gripped Sariel's forearms, her eyes locked with his, while he only smiled in return at her childish behavior. "Yes we have!" She confirmed a brilliant smile on her lips, she then turned to Charlie, thinking very fast of a way out.  "It's just that… that…"

"That?" Charlie asked, one of her eyebrow high, Steward waiting quietly behind her, but as eager to know how Sarah knew Sariel.

But, it was Sariel who answered. He smiled and explained. "Last time we saw each other, I was slightly different." Sarah turned to him, rolling her eyes, heavenward and Sariel laughed lightly, raising his hands in defeat. "Alright, I was small with a big head, a round belly and short legs… Happy?" He asked her, with a shake of his head.

"Without mentioning that you've changed your name!" Sarah pointed out also, smiling.

Sariel shrugged and resumed walking. "Bah. I'm used to much more different names, lately."

Sarah quickened her pace to be at his level. "What do you mean?" She asked.

Sariel sent her a bright smile and told her. "After grilling our manager's ass, Jareth locked himself in his room with a bottle of whiskey and when I tried to get him out, I was renamed several times quite originally."

Sarah stopped dead in her tracks and Steward, walking behind her, almost crashed in her. "You don't mean that… Jareth is drunk?" She asked him, unbelieving.

Sariel grinned. "Oh! Yes, he'll be. And I can't say I'm not enjoying it."

"W-What?" Sarah choked.

"Jareth can't hold well alcohol." Sariel opened his hands, as if it was something he couldn't do much about and even if he could, wouldn't. "He's drunk with only two glasses so a full bottle. Serves him right!" He murmured quickly after, but Sarah caught it anyway.

Steward sighed heavily and joked. "Man, there's a lot of alcohol flowing down, around here…" He let his voice trail and grinned at Sarah, who had turned to glare at him.

"Steward, shut the hell up!" She snapped and Sariel resumed walking, the others following him but two of them were laughing merrily.

As they entered in the grand house, by the basement, while crossing the hacienda like terrace, a feminine shriek greeted them. "Jareth! Son of a bitch! Open that god damned door!" Sariel ran up a flight of stairs, leading them to the first floor.

Another yell answered the first, a bit muffled, as if coming through a wall or a door. "Go away, old hag!" A male voice answered.

Sariel sighed and walked faster. "Oh, no, Iome…"

"Hag?" The woman sounded positively outraged. "Watch your mouth, you brat!"

"Let me fucking alone, damn it!" Annoyance and frustration clearly rang, sorrow too, a seep desperation, like for something held but lost forever, like sand fleeing through a fist, like a bird escaping the golden cage of his crying master. But the woman didn't even beat an eyelash at the pity the male voice could stir.

"Alone?" Sariel, Sarah, Charlie and Steward finally rounded the corner to find a short woman with an amazing mass of blond hair, almost the color of honey, reaching down her waist, dressed in black short and a white tank top, barefoot, her hands on her hips, glaring and screaming at a huge wooden door. "You're wrong, scum!" She screamed once more. "We're in this as deep as you, jackass! Now open up that forsaken door before I grab an axe and bring it down!" She finished, beating her fists against the door.

"You?" The voice on the other side of the door sounded amused and scornful. "With those tiny arms? Dream on, fool!"

"What?!" The woman only started to beat the door louder.

"Iome…" Sariel sighed, attracting the woman's attention and she turned her blazing eyes on them. Her eyes were color of a turquoise sea. She wasn't tall like Sarah, but she wasn't small like Charlie and in her, everything seemed perfect: the heart-shaped of her face, her thin features, like chiseled in marble. Her skin wasn't as pale as Jareth, but golden suntan, which made her hair even more honey like. Her language didn't, really didn't fit with her warm beauty.

"There you are, old geezer!" She started, looking like she was ready to stomp on Sariel. "And where have…" Iome stopped and put her hands on her mouth, then she flew herself to Sarah's neck. "Sarah!" She screamed happily.

"You know Iome too?" Charlie drawled, looking ready to kill.

"Wow!" Iome exclaimed and stepping back she looked at Sarah up and down. "I wanted to meet you a long time ago!" Iome laughed and hugged Sarah again. "The person who brought the ass on his knees!" She said happily and laughed a little, only to have her laugh turning to a shriek as she jumped in surprise, when on the other side of the wall, something crashed again it, smashing into a thousand pieces, surprising everyone by its strength when it hit the wall. "What was that?" Iome squealed.

Sariel reached out in his pocket a cigarette and lit it up calmly, telling her. "Probably the 'ass' sending his glass against the door."

"Jareth!" Iome whirled around and hit the door again. "Bastard! You better clean up your mess!" She yelled.

"Iome, you aren't getting things better, you know." Sariel remarked, in a puff of smoke.

Sarah, shyly, approached the door. Unknowing what to do, she touched it and called, almost a whisper at first, then taking courage, louder. "Jareth! Jareth, open up! It's Sarah…" Biting her lip, Sarah didn't know what to say more.

Why would he open the door ? Their first meeting had been so explosive, him so scornful at first, so sure of himself and her so childish and inconsiderate in her demands, then they had fought, fought over a baby, a fight she had won, through tears and blood.

Then, they had met a second time and all their pent-up emotions lashing at each other, they made their second meeting as explosive as the first, but then, the fight had come, like the first time, the only difference being that it came later than the first time.

But, she still had to try.

Because, each time they fought, they wounded each other. She could see it, like they were standing on each side of a wall they were building together, each of his sarcasms, each of her accusations turning into a new brick on the wall, separating them further. And she couldn't let it happen. She didn't want to let it happen. "Open the door…" Even to her own ears, she sounded so pathetic, pleading, begging him to do as she asked once more. Was she really that cruel, as he said so many times already. But, if she was, he was as cruel. Her resolution taken, Sarah's voice grew firmer and almost on a commanding tone, she said, frowning. "We need to talk!" Sariel hid his smile behind the hand that held the cigarette in his mouth. He knew Sarah better than anyone, he could see the determination on her face, the same fierce determination, which had brought her through the labyrinth, even despite his betrayal and the peach episode. Now, if Jareth could allow himself to let go. The smile disappeared.

A long silence followed Sarah's exclamation, embarrassing for some, cruel for one, maddening for another, sad for the last one. Then, from the other side of the door, the same voice rose once more, calmly, deadly, cold. "And what good will it do me? Except tearing me apart again?" The voice asked, emaciated.

            This alone struck Sarah a blow. She wouldn't have felt worse if he had hit her. Was she really responsible for all this? Or was he dumping it on her? Who, of the two of them, was the cruelest, which of the two of them was the victim here, if victim there was. The tears came alone, unnoticed and unwanted, and ran down her cheeks, while she stared at, without seeing it, the door.

Iome, who was at Sarah's left, was the first to notice the tears and pulling a comforting arm around Sarah's shoulders, as the latter crouched in pain, yelled to the other one. "Fine!" Charlie came forward and took Sarah in her arms. Sariel sighed and closed his eyes. He knew what was to come and besides, Jareth was still under the influence of his spell. Another sad smile crossed his lips. "Sulk all the way round, while I take Sarah for me." Iome finished, putting her fists on her hips.

The door swung open to reveal Jareth who towered over Iome, yelling back at her. "Back off, ruins! She's guarded hunt!"

"Ruins?" She repeated, her eyes fierce again. "Ruins maybe but I won't make her cry!" She yelled, taking a step forward, as if daring him to deny her that.

"What the hell?" Steward blinked. Jareth had opened the door out of jealousy. Any of Sarah's cries hadn't reached him, but he had reacted quicker than Steward would have thought he would at the jealousy Iome had evoked in him. Sariel's chuckle caught his attention off the fight going on and Steward looked at him wearily, asking himself where the hell Charlie, Sarah and he had crashed into.

Sariel lit up another cigarette as the first was finished and sent by the grand window into the garden. "Jareth and Iome have always fought over the same girls, don't worry, it happens all the time." He explained. Charlie raised her eyes from Sarah's form, buried in her arms, crying her heart out on her shoulders to Jareth and Iome fighting again to know whose fault it was for Sarah's tears and finally fell on Sariel.

"At least, he opened the door."  Charlie said, shrugging.

Sariel smiled once more. "Iome knows which buttons to push as well as I do." Sariel finally added, with a wink. "Don't worry, she's in a man period at the moment." Sariel then turned to observe the two opponents and stepped forward, walking in front of Sarah and Charlie, hiding them behind his back. As he walked, he spoke, opening his hands in a calming manner. "Now, kids, if you would settle down, I think Jareth and Sarah could have this talk."

"Who said I wanted to talk?" Jareth answered back, scornfully. And something in Sarah finally snapped. Why would she cry for such a jerk?

"Fine!" She yelled, detangling herself of Charlie's comforting arms. "Be that way! I'm gonna visit Iome's bedroom!"

"This way!" Iome happily said, a smile on her red lips.

"Iome…" Sariel sighed and shook his head but Jareth didn't care, his burning eyes focused on Sarah, full of anger and betrayal.

"Fine! Leave if you want! See if I care!" He answered, turning his back on her, walking back in the room he had locked himself in earlier, but Sarah followed him and sneaked in before he could close the door on her. As he turned around to swing the door close, Sarah, who had been running close to him to prevent him from locking her out, crashed into his chest. She would have stumbled and fell on her bottom, if Jareth's arms hadn't sneaked and caught her by her forearms, when she lost her footing.

Instinctively, Sarah's hands closed on his own forearms and, when she found her balance back, she whispered, her head bent. "Jareth, you stubborn, impossible, insufferable man!" She leaned on him, resting her cheek against his heart and closed her eyes at the quick pace of his heart. It was almost comfortable and it reminded her of another encounter, of which she only had flashes, a drunk and feverish night, a dance they both willingly gave in. But, suddenly, Jareth shook her hands off his arms, and as if he was disgusted, turned around and walked further in the room.

"Wonderful, Sarah, 14 years and that's all you can come up with." He threw over his shoulder, taunting her.

Sarah kicked the door closed, behind her and screamed back. "You rat!" Sarah's ire flared up once more and she walked after him. "It's all your fault!" She accused him, pointing her hand at him, meanwhile shaking her head. "You come back without announcing anything and I…"

She stopped abruptly when Jareth's fingers closed around her hand and he pulled her hard to him, whispering fiercely, his mouth inches from hers, his eyes burning in hers. Like they were dancing, Jareth forced her to walk backwards, till her back met a wall. "What did you want?" He asked her quickly, the acid of his words almost burning her physically. "A postcard?" His other hand slammed in the wall right next to her head and she jumped in surprise, frozen, rooted to the spot, unable to tear her eyes from his.

His breathing was ragged and rapid, his fingers tightened their hold on her fingers and she cried out at the unexpected pain coming from it, surprised. "Jareth!" His face wouldn't have contorted in a worse expression of self-disgust and pity, if he had slapped her.

He released her hand like it was a burning piece of white metal and cupped her face so gently like he was afraid to break her, his thumbs wiping her unnoticed tears away. "Don't cry…" He whispered hoarsely, his eyes closed, unable to support the view of her tears. Ever since, his sister had cried, on her deathbed, in his arms, he had been unable to stand the sight of a crying woman.

And this woman was now Sarah. Sarah, the Sarah, stubborn Sarah, sweet Sarah, beautiful Sarah, ravishing Sarah, his. "Please, don't cry, I can't stand it when you're crying." His murmurs floated to her ears like on a cloud, as his mouth drifted to kiss gently her right ear. His voice suddenly livened up and he said fiercely, talking more to himself than to Sarah, who could only listen, frozen, between Jareth and the wall. "I've already lost you once, then I lost Millibel…" He fell on his knees, his face hid in her neck, bringing her to her knees too, her eyes wide, she let him murmur in her ear.  "No, I wouldn't bear it if you left me again…" Then, so quickly she couldn't do anything but gasp, his mouth crashed on hers, taking advantage of her moment of surprise to slip his tongue in and kissing her so desperately, as if the world was coming to an end, as if his had come to an end.

The world shattered in a thousands pieces and the sun reflected in the pieces of the glass he had destroyed earlier. However, she couldn't tell if it was the sun reflecting in the glass shards or his fierce kiss which blinded her with tears again. Like somebody had hit him on the back of his head, Jareth's eyes widen and for a fleeting second met Sarah's bewildered gaze before closing, his body turning limp and he fell on her, unconscious.

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A light snore came from the man, cutting short the panic quickly building inside her breast. Sarah stared at the man on her lap and blinked: Jareth had fallen asleep. Jareth had truly fallen asleep on her. Oh how earth had Jareth could fallen asleep was beyond her: here he had been kissing her deeply and the next, fast asleep on her lap. Sarah growled in annoyance at the man and studied him: his steady breathing and his light snores, no doubt, the jerk had fallen asleep. Sarah considered dropping his head off her lap but then her gaze fell on his lips.

Jareth, Jareth was beautiful. His features were hard but as impossible as it seemed delicate in their own way, as if sculpted by wind blades, his high cheekbones so smooth under her fingers and his long eyelashes teasing her thumb. Even asleep, he looked out of time, royal in everyway. Dangerous. Like a shadow, lurking at his feet, the impression of danger was always surrounding him.

His lips promised mysteries and dark secrets and even if she had kissed him a couple of times already, she still couldn't remember what he tasted like, how his lips had been on hers, she couldn't remember, but she longed for them like a long-forgotten favorite sweet seen all the sudden, almost physically she could feel her heart flutter with longing and regret.

Regret for the fights they always seemed to have around each other, regret for the shattered world she had touched in her bathtub while longing for his burning touch arousing her and scaring her even, longing for those eyes to look at her, like only him was able to. Jareth was impossible to understand. Why couldn't they have a conversation like rational adults? Avoiding fighting. On her lap, he seemed so vulnerable.

Reacting to an impulse, Sarah closed her arms over his shoulders and rested her head lightly against his hair, closing her eyes, trying to forget where they were, trying to forget how they ended up here, trying to forget. But the memories didn't want to be forgotten and imposed themselves to her again. She could see herself tugging on his shirt, while his hands were roaming on her half naked body, his lips trailing white-hot kisses in the hollow of her shoulder. She could hear him whisper her name, over and over again, as they were one, as they moved together, like they had been practicing this dance for years now. She could see his face, contorted in pleasure and feel the thrill it had brought her. And then, his angry face. His burning eyes and tense voice. His scorn almost and his rage. His stiff shoulders and his harsh words.

Jareth was impossible to understand: with one hand, he seemed to pushed her away from him, while with his other hand trying to pull her closer. Sarah opened her eyes. Yes that was exactly how she was: torn, lost, not knowing what to say, what to do, not knowing if she had done anything right till now. Jareth had the knack to turn her mad and overthrow her world, like a raging storm.

Her head resting on his short soft hair, like baby hair she mused and smiled. She felt so content and Sarah chuckled, if only he could stay this way, his big mouth closed he would be perfect. But so dull. Jareth was impossible to live with, but she didn't think she could go back to her life without him either. Sarah sighed and decided to push these annoying thoughts for later.

Raising her head, for the first time, Sarah's eyes wandered in the room they were in: she was sitting, with Jareth on her lap, her back to on of the walls, in what seemed to be a boudoir. Another open door, forming an arch, in front of her, led to another room, where she could see a grand poster bed, with white light drapes, blowing gently. The walls were color of sunset and the furniture was made of deep brown wood, a chest was at the foot of the bed, Jareth's pendant symbol carved on it. Jareth's apartment.

The arch leading to his bedroom was surprisingly small, compared to the main door, which was a immense double wooden door. The white ceiling was high and supported by old looking beams, the same color as the furniture. On her left, light poured in the room, through a window split in three, by three white columns designed like women, lightly clad, their hands up, holding the structure. There, too, clear white drapes flew gently in the soft breeze, their ends caressing gently the bench placed under, with big white cushions.

The room had only a few pieces of furniture: a table, a bench under the windows, another chest on the opposite wall as Sarah, but what intrigued her were the bookcases, on each side of the chest, as she could see numbers of pictures on the shelves. She couldn't clearly see them, as she was a little too far and without her reading glasses, she wasn't even able to see who were on them. Her gaze drifted to the chest and as she expected it, this one too had Jareth's symbol carved into.

Sarah's gaze drifted up to the wall and the photographs she could see. These 4 were bigger than those on the shelves. She couldn't tell who were on the pictures either, but she could see them better and she could even see, on the middle picture, a woman in a long black evening dress, smiling gently up to the photographer, her face had something familiar, the shape of her chin reminded of someone else. Sarah narrowed her eyes and wished she could dump Jareth's head elsewhere to inspect the photo closer. A creaking sound, announcing the opening of a door jerked her from her musings and her head turned sharply to the door.

Sariel peeked inside and Sarah saw his gaze lit up as it fell on hers and Jareth's forms.

"Ah." He said, as he entered the room, smiling. "He finally fell asleep. He lasted longer than I thought he would."

"What?" Sariel's smile grew wider.

He stepped closer and squatted down, poking Jareth's cheek gently with one finger, his eyes warm and his smile fond. "It's a natural reaction between his magic and alcohol." He explained to Sarah. Raising his gaze, he smiled almost apologetically to her and sat down next to them. "His magic is starting to clean his system of the unwanted substance, meaning alcohol. He just fell asleep, don't worry." He said again, waving his hand quickly.

"Oh." Sarah looked down at Jareth: his arms had fallen around her when he had first fell on her and when Sariel had sat next to her, she had definitely felt them tighten around her legs.

Sariel leaned on the wall and reached inside his jacket to pull out a cigarette and his lighter. "I'm looking after Jareth since he was 5." He told her. He poked Jareth's cheek once more and lit up his cigarette. "Old habits die hard." He said, exhaling the smoke. Relaxed, the older man fell silent. Waiting.

Sarah gathered her guts and asked him in a low voice. "Sariel…" She paused and finally looked at him, to find that he was staring at the ceiling his cigarette in his mouth. "How is this all possible?" She murmured and paused once more but Sariel didn't say a thing, nor looked like he was going to say anything and Sarah dropped her gaze back to Jareth: he looked almost comical, sprawled like he was on the floor with his long limbs. "I don't understand anything. Everything is so confusing, I feel like I'm in the Labyrinth all over again, although this time, I can't see the walls."

"Ah, Sarah." Sariel sighed. "The Labyrinth you're talking about has always been there, but it's the first time you're running this particular Labyrinth and being aware of it, I suppose." He paused once more and looked at her. She hadn't listened a bit at what he had said. As Sarah hadn't looked up from Jareth's face, she saw a slender finger enter her line of vision and Sariel poked Jareth's cheek once more.

Sarah looked up a bit surprised, but Sariel only smiled ruefully to her. Then, quicker that she could have expected it, his face turned back to a serious expression. "Jareth isn't the Goblin King." He said, his tone firm. "In fact, there aren't any Goblins. Everything was an illusion, a perfect lie to lure Toby to us."

Sarah jumped and breathed. "Toby?"

Sariel looked surprised too and asked her carefully. "Did Jareth tell you what we were?"

"What?"

Sariel sighed once more and explained in an equal voice. "We are humans, Sarah. Not Fae or Dwarves. Just humans." He paused and studied her face. Her lightly disbelieving face made him resume quickly his explanation. "A long time ago, before that the Roman Religion came to the northern lands of Europe, there was a community, who worshipped the olds spirits and it was said that those spirits chose some humans, giving them special abilities, marking them as their personal messenger or servant. But, then the Christ and his priests came to these lands and hunted down these people. I'm not saying anything against this religion or what, but it has to be noted that the people with special abilities were treated as witches and wizards and therefore burned."

Sarah was completely taken by the story and she couldn't help but ask. "But, if the other gods had chosen them, why didn't he save them?"

Sariel chuckled and said, as he kept on smoking. "That's the trick with the gods." Taking his cigarette between two fingers, he pointed at her. "Gods don't save anyone, you have to save yourself." Sarah didn't say anything and Sariel resumed his story. "And so, some of them gathered and split this dimension in two, allowing those with powers only to go through the portals. They still stand up and proud, nowadays and are even admired for their beauty and quiet strength."

"Oh!" Sarah exclaimed. "You mean those stones, dressed in circles? Damn it, I can't remember their names!" She said quickly, frowning.

Sariel smiled and looked down at Jareth. Gone was the time, when he used to tuck him in his bed. "I don't know how the Above grounders call them, but we call them 'Doors', however the most powerful of our kin don't need Doors to go between the Underground and Aboveground. They just go as they will it."

Sarah snorted, making Sariel look up at her. "I bet Jareth is one of them." She grumbled under her breath, obviously not wanting to be heard.

Sariel chuckled again. "Yes, he is. Although he doesn't look like one, right now." Both of them fell silent, as they stared at the sleeping blonde, on Sarah's lap.

"Yes…" Sarah finally whispered. A tear ran down her cheek, while she giggled softly.

Sariel was sorry for the way things had turned, he really wanted them to be happy and he tried to mend the things. "Sarah…"

"Why are you telling me all this?" She demanded, her gaze still fixed on Jareth.

Sariel took a deep breath and cursed lightly, as the cigarette between his fingers he had forgotten, threatened to burn his hand. Quickly standing up, he walked to the table where he knew an ashtray was. His back to her, he told her. "Jareth is our Emperor's only son, therefore Heir."

"So?"

Sariel turned around and before answering, lit up another cigarette, leaning on the table behind him. "His relationship with his parents is… strained, let's say, and he rivals his father dangerously in term of magical power." Sariel paused once more to smoke. "Any father would have burst with joy and pride, but not our Emperor, his reaction was rather the opposite." The understatement of the century, Sariel mocked himself inwardly. He refused to meet Sarah's gaze and he looked outside.

"What's his name?" Sarah asked.

"I'm sorry, but only family members or close friends can say his name aloud. Even in this realm. Being the emperor brings so many responsibilities and in consequence, powers that he can hear whenever his name is said aloud." Sariel finally turned his gaze back to her and his eyes naturally fell on Jareth. "Just like Jareth." He fell silent and finished his cigarette, staring at Jareth.

His father, when he had learnt Jareth was maybe as strong as he was, at only the age of ten publicly humiliated him, in front of the whole Imperial Court by making a comment on his eyes. Jareth hadn't believed his ears: he was used to hear such comments from other members, but never from his own father. The hurt of betrayal, the pain, the bitterness that had followed had been as frightening as the lack of response Jareth had offered after. Sariel had known Jareth had been devastated and he had only feared the worst, when Jareth hadn't even seemed to even bat an eyelash at the humiliating comment.

Sarah's voice snapped him out of his gloom and Sariel focused back on the present. "You said they aren't getting along?" She asked him and he wondered how long he had stayed silent.

"No, they aren't." He confirmed and steeled himself against the memories. "That's why Jareth, as soon as he finished his studies took over the Illusion Isle and tamed it to his will."

"What is that…" Sarah started to ask, but Sariel finished for her.

"Illusion Isle. Even with powers, we are still humans, with petty feelings and all." Sariel smiled wryly. "And of course, discrimination forced a couple of wizards to tear a piece of land from the continent, and by magic, this artificial isle sails on the sea, as a ship."

Sarah choked and let him know she didn't believe him. "You're kidding me."

Sariel smiled and shook his head negatively. "Not at all. Anyway, Jareth wanted to prove himself to his father. Rebellion, insult or simple recognition, I still don't know what he wanted to prove. I don't think he knows himself." Sariel shrugged, then frowned, remembering the tornado the Imperial Palace had been thrown into after Jareth's return. "However, the Emperor was less than pleased and it only created a deeper rift between the two and so, Jareth locked himself in his Citadel."

Sariel paused once more, his eyes on Jareth, but seeing another one, one with long and wild hair, standing to the others proudly on the walls of his Citadel, but to him, broken and angry, glaring at the sea like it was a constant reminder of his father's denial. Sariel fell Sarah's confused gaze and he asked her quickly. "Can you imagine the amount of power it needs to take over such land, tame it and keep it under control?"

Sarah blinked and smiled dryly. "Actually, no, but I'll believe you." Unknown to her, one of her hand had finally found its place on Jareth's back, while the other was cupping his neck gently, playing with his hair. Sariel hid his smile behind his hand, pretending to be smoking.

Maybe, Jareth could be saved, after all. Maybe Millibel was right. "Hmm." Sariel turned away, a small smile he couldn't prevent lingering on his lips and looking outside, he answered. "Yes, anyway, Jareth became known across the empire as the Illusion Isle King, no longer the High Prince or Heir."

Sariel looked down at his hands: the Illusion Isle, a living nightmare, people said, a demoniac paradise, other whispered. How right they were. Sariel wouldn't be the one who would tell her what Jareth went through to conquer that Isle, he, himself didn't really know but he had a fairly good idea of the pain Jareth had to overcome. Foolish little boy, he had always been.

"And being the Illusion Isle King isn't a small affair, you see, the island keeps on moving and hiding itself, so it's extremely difficult to locate it if you've never been there at least once. But Jareth found it."

Sariel looked up and smiled sadly. "A morning, he disappeared from the Imperial Palace and his whereabouts were unknown during a whole year. What he did during that year, or where he was is still unknown as he had hidden himself. But when he came back, he proclaimed himself as the Illusion Isle King. Nobody believed him, his father the first but Jareth showed them his pendant, the proof of his duty and rank and everybody had to believe his word."

Sariel fell silent and he gazed outside. He had been a wreck during the first three months, then hope had battled in his heart with dread, hope always hanging on the fact that if he was hidden, that meant he was consciously doing it, therefore alive, dread always snickering on how alive Jareth was.

Sariel's loop-sided grin was so sad, that Sarah unconsciously tightened her hands around Jareth. Jareth's caretaker must have been through Hell and back several times with Jareth around.

Thinking about the ruffian, Sarah's gaze fell on his face to find a pair of mismatched eyes looking away, lost in the visions of the past only them could see. The melancholy, loneliness and constant anger Sarah read there were shockingly painful to her heart somehow, but why, that was the question. Sarah stiffened suddenly: Jareth was awake. The jerk was awake for only god knew for how long and he had remained on her lap, pretending sleep.

Noticing Sarah's sudden uneasiness, Jareth raised his eyes and smirked at her, then, carefully, slowly, as if he had a major headache, Jareth kneeled in front of her, drawling ironically. "Sariel… Bragging about old stories again. Can't you let the past lie?" Jareth never looked at her, but sat next to her, leaning his back against the wall at her right, leaning his head backwards, closing his eyes. He was moving carefully and Sarah saw Sariel's eyes, who had turned to face Jareth, glitter happily.

Sariel smiled and put his cigarette in the ashtray. He stretched like a cat, his arms up in the air, rounding his back and smiling once more, he made his way to the door, answering Jareth. "Alright, when you will learn."

"Idiot." Jareth growled back, opening his eyes, as Sariel closed the door behind him, without meeting Sarah's pleading gaze of not letting her alone with Jareth.

Sarah was feeling suddenly really conscious of herself and started to fidget with the shirt she was wearing. After Charlie's phone call, she had jumped in a pair of old jeans, with a white shirt saying 'protect me from what I want'. Jareth had raised a delicate eyebrow at the T-shirt she had chosen and she had raised her little chin in defiance, but he had only smiled and kept his mouth closed, but it didn't stop his lips from quivering up. It had almost felt normal to be with Jareth, watching him dress, watching him run his hand through his short messy hair, almost.

Then, when Jareth and her had parted, she had felt so angry and hurt, that she had torn apart almost all the tabloids that could fall under her hands, before collapsing on Charlie's comforting lap. Charlie had easily talked her into calling Jareth to apologize, but Sarah suddenly realized they hadn't even exchanged their phone numbers, just jumped in bed, last night and after another roll of tears, she had decided to meet him, and dragging Steward behind them, Sarah and Charlie had decided to go over his place immediately.

Jareth wasn't saying anything, she was too embarrassed to talk, but the silence was too awkward, too painful to stay that way, therefore, she asked him lamely. "Jareth, are you alright?" As he didn't answer her after quite some time, Sarah feared he had fallen asleep again, so she raised her eyes to him again, to find that he was staring at her. With his hard, cold eyes, with those eyes she could easily fall into. 

"Yes, I'm fine." He answered harshly and looked away. And the uncomfortable silence claimed the room once more while Sarah bit her lower lip almost to blood.

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

As Sarah closed the door behind her, after following Jareth inside his bedroom, Iome turned around to face Sarah's friends: the woman was worriedly looking at the closed doors, wincing at each of the yells coming through, while the man sighed and brought an arm around the woman's shoulders. The matching bands, which glittered in the sun as their hands joined on the woman's shoulder convinced Iome of her first suspicions.

On the other side, the yells suddenly stopped and Sariel smiled, flicking once more his finished cigarette in the garden. Iome walked closer to the couple.

"What about a breakfast? I just woke up and I'm starving." She said, shrugging her tanned shoulders, smiling reassuringly. Sariel rolled his eyes heavenward and drawled.

"Iome, it's almost noon. It's no longer time for a breakfast." He pointed out, leaning on the wall. Iome let a small smile grace her cherry lips: of course, the Heir Guardian wouldn't leave his master in such crisis.

Iome flicked her honey-like hair over her shoulder and walked past Sariel without acknowledging his comment.

"Come on, my dears, I think you two would be delighted for a cup of coffee." She smiled as she took the man's arms under her own, her other arm slipping easily around the woman's waist. The woman raised an eyebrow, threw a look over her shoulder, but upon seeing Sariel who waved back at her, she nodded and turned her eyes back to Iome.

Charlie smiled: at least, someone was staying near the door in case, one of the two blockheads inside tried to murder the other, someone was close enough to stop them. Charlie turned her gaze back to Iome, smiling sweetly to her. "Let's go, my husband makes the best coffee in the world."

Iome's eyes glittered and she almost purred. "Then, let's go!" She laughed, Charlie's giggles joining hers while Steward shook his head a little. Iome led the two in the opposite direction from where they came from and passed before two others before climbing down another flight of stairs.

As the three of them made their way towards the kitchen, Iome asked Charlie. "You said you were called?" She let her voice trail, letting Charlie answer her.

Charlie grinned back. She liked that woman: the way she had fought with Jareth had been amazingly brilliant. "I'm Charlie and this is my husband, Steward."

Iome nodded and took a deep breath, winking. "Well, thanks for dragging Sarah here."

Charlie grinned again, while Steward said. "In fact, it's Sarah who dragged us here."

Iome turned to him, surprised. "Really?"

"Yes, she wanted to sort out things with him." Charlie explained. The fight these two had been into the morning had been quite a terrifying sight. Oh, there had been obviously something between the two, ten ago, and they had obviously parted on bad terms the first time. "After the fight they had this morning…" Her voice trailed, not wanting to go in further the details.

"It wasn't a pretty sight." Steward confirmed and as they entered the kitchen, he detangled himself from Iome's arms and moved around the counter to the coffee machine. Checking the machine, he kept on. "Afterwards, Sarah cried a bucket, threw a tantrum and finally decided on coming here." He raised his eyes to meet Iome's eyes and threw her a sad boyish grin. "Where's the coffee?" He asked, looking over his shoulder to the cupboard. The kitchen was grand and well lit, with a table and a bar. Charlie was sitting upon one of the black high chairs, while Iome rounded the counter too, to reach a cupboard from where she extracted cups.

"In here." She answered Steward, as she opened a drawer, where forks, knives and spoons lied. "How did you find the house?" She asked, as she closed it, three spoons in her right hand. Steward opened the cupboard Iome had pointed to and rummaged through it, looking for a coffee he liked, among the dozen of variety of teas, coffees and other stuff stored there.

Charlie straightened and grinned. "I'm a proud member of the Kings Fan club!" She announced.

Iome set a cup in front of her, while Steward made the water to boil, as he had found a coffee brand he liked. At Charlie's proud announcement, Steward raised his green eyes over the rim of his glasses and grinned at his wife, while all Iome could say was.  "Ah." Steward laughed lightly at Iome's blank look, but finally Iome shrugged and went through the cupboards again, taking out cereals, bread, marmalade, bigger spoons and bowls setting them all on the table.

"Sarah is my best friend." Charlie said, as she followed with her eyes Iome moved through the kitchen. "I hope Jareth won't make her cry again, otherwise, he'll be singing on a much higher note after I'm finished with him." Iome turned around to face Charlie but the other woman was smiling sweetly back at her, a smile Iome finally sent back after a while.

"Charlie…" Steward sighed.

Finally, Iome moved to the refrigerator and took out a half empty bottle of milk and some fruit juices she found. For a while, only the sound of the coffee machine resonated in the kitchen, then Iome slammed the refrigerator's door closed and whirled around, setting down with force the last fruit juice she had found. Quickly, before any of the other two could react, she leaned on Charlie, her blue eyes glittering. "Let's set them up."

"What?" Charlie gasped aloud and Steward burst in laughter after a moment of pure astonishment.

Iome straightened a little and blinked. "You've never played matchmakers?" She asked wryly.

Upon this, Sariel strolled in the kitchen, another cigarette in mouth. He had just got out of Jareth's room and had his little chat with Sarah. Now, he hoped that Jareth would be the one talking to her. Sariel could have sighed aloud when he had understood Jareth had told her nothing or very little. How could he expect her to understand and accept if he didn't tell her anything?

As he walked in the kitchen, Iome's last announcement froze him and he growled, warningly. "Iome, don't start with that."

Iome whirled around, her warm blond hair delicately framing her perfect innocent face. "I'm not talking to you." She said bluntly, as scornful as she could, raising her little chin. Really, Sariel thought for maybe the hundred times, her face wasn't fit at all with her language and behavior.

"No need to be rude." He answered, a bit hurt at her insolent answer. He pulled a high chair out and sat on it, while Iome went and wordlessly gave him a cup. Sariel rolled his eyes: one could have given Iome God without confession with one of her smile… Until one heard her talk, that for sure. A wry smile on his lips, Sariel thanked her with a nod of his head.

Iome sent him a dirty look and turned back to Charlie. "So, what do you think? If we combine our skills, I'm pretty sure we could set them up." She proposed.

"We…"Charlie hesitated. It sounded quite possible. And tempting. "We don't even know each other."

Iome waved her objection away with a lazy flick of her left hand, while she poured cereals in one of the bowls. "Don't matter. You obviously care for Sarah and know her… While I care for Jareth and know him." She added with a wry smile, which made Sariel chuckle, and after another dirty look in his general direction, she added some milk to her bowl.

Charlie surveyed her carefully for a long time. Then, as Steward poured some coffee in her mug, she asked, quietly, gently, softly. "Why do you want to do that?" The tone was sweet but the eyes weren't. Iome saw it immediately and Sariel narrowed his eyes at her over the rim of his fuming cup. He was warning her to keep her mouth closed or to find a really convincing lie Charlie would buy. Iome knew Charlie would refuse and do whatever possible to prevent her from setting Jareth and Sarah up if the answer she was about to give didn't please her. Iome bit her lip. Sariel's glare was burning holes in her heart.

But, she would tell the truth, as painful it was for him to hear and reminisce, she would tell.  "I…" Iome hesitated, a last minute doubt and looked away from Sariel, who set the cup on the counter with force as she resumed her talking. His condemnation. He wouldn't forget her betrayal of his feelings.

Charlie jumped in surprise, when Sariel set the cup down with an unnecessary force, but she didn't pay it much attention as Iome had started talking. "I know Jareth for long now, I can even truthfully say I saw him the day he was born. But, I was always watching, always watching. I never extended my hand to help him, even when he would have asked me."

Iome paused once more, her head bent, she picked up a large spoon and started twirling it in her bowl, endlessly. "But, he never did, because he knew that I wouldn't give him what he needed. And then, Jareth never reproached me nothing." The circle kept on and on, as she remembered. Watching him, so young, evolve in the Imperial Court, seeing his eyes turning more and more icy.

She kept on with a broken voice. "Each time, I saw somebody give him a stab in the back, I saw him bend a little to grow stronger and stand even more higher than he was before. Jareth… Jareth is the kind of person who, when they look at you, can see the depths of your soul, even the corners you don't want to see yourself." The circle stopped and Iome raised her head. She smiled poorly to Charlie and added in a whisper, her head tilt on her side. "Besides, it was my best friend's wish."

"Your best friend?" Charlie repeated, curious.

"Iome." A word, a whole meaning, her name. How weird, Iome pondered, how a name can change said in a different tone. So cold and menacing, can he be. Iome turned her eyes to Sariel, who had tighten his jaw, his eyes accusing her. But, it was too late to turn around now.

So, locking her eyes, full of sorrow on Sariel, she said. "Millibel, Jareth's older sister."

Sariel grew agitated. "Iome, don't start with that." He snap, and prayed she wouldn't tell too much.

Iome snap back. "They need to know!"

Sariel growled. "If Jareth ever hears that you…"

And Iome was disappointed. But didn't let it show and quickly, she shot back at him. "And who would tell him?"

"Iome!" He threatened, but she wouldn't hear reason now.

In defy, she raised her chin once more, her defiant gaze and proud composure made him want to smack her perfect face with all his might.  "Tell him if you want, Millibel's wish is the more important to me." She said, her eyes blazing, leaning a little towards him. Oh, she knew, she knew he itched to slap her. Just as she knew he wouldn't. Just as she knew he still blamed himself for not telling Millibel sooner he loved her because he had always believe he was from a too low rank from her. Just as she knew why he had become a chain smoker.

"What was it?" Charlie suddenly asked, breaking the tension between the two, without knowing it.

Steward put a hand on her arm, restraining her. "Charlie, if it's so private, maybe we shouldn't…"

Charlie whirled around to face him and cut him. "If it has something to do with Sarah, I want to know and right now." She said, her voice raising, as she turned back to Iome.

Iome took several small calming breaths and said, her eyes first on Sariel, slowly moving back to Charlie.  "Millibel was sick for a long time, an incurable illness and Jareth was desperate. He made a pact with her: she wouldn't die until he had granted her 100 wishes. She died the day she made her 100th wish."

"Which was?" Charlie insisted.

Iome smiled at her stubbornness. "She wished Jareth to be happy. Even if he didn't understand it that way, that was what she meant." Iome shrugged and took a sip of the coffee Steward had poured in her cup. It was indeed delicious, but today, the savor had fled her.

"What did she exactly wish for, then?" Steward asked, interested despite himself. He understood Charlie's fierceness at protecting Sarah, as she had been the one to introduce Andrew to Sarah. As he knew Charlie still hit herself over the head for doing that.

"That Jareth went back to Sarah." Sariel answered. He was sitting there, his shoulders down, looking up, a cigarette between his lips.

Iome threw him a look and turned back to Charlie and Steward. "Millibel strongly believed Sarah was the only woman for Jareth. After what happened between them and the wreck Jareth was afterwards, it was obvious to anyone knowing him that he loved her deeply. Even if, he refused to admit it himself." Iome added a bit lower, talking more to herself than to Charlie and Steward. From the corner of her eyes, she watched over Sariel, worried. Would he fall again in depression, after her confession?

"I'll help." Charlie suddenly said and Iome turned to her sharply, looking like she was seeing light for the first time in her life. "I don't know if he's the right man for Sarah, but he looks like he wants to be him." Charlie smiled sweetly.

"How can you say that?" Iome asked, completely bluffed.

Charlie shrugged. "Don't know." She looked away for a while, trying to find her words. "It's an impression." She frowned and stuck her tongue out for excuse as she couldn't find a better way to explain. "Whenever I see him look at her, I just know."

Steward grinned too and nodded to Charlie. "So, what do we do?" Like a boy planning a new prank, he rubbed his hands together.

"I don't think it would be a good idea." The voice was old and dull, without any tone or color, dead. Sariel turned his eyes to them, his cigarette hanging dangerously in the corner of his lips. His eyes were cold gray like stone, just like the first time they had met, Charlie thought and shivered.

Iome livened up and Charlie thought how an odd couple these two made. Iome was like the sun, with her honey locks and her radiant sky blue eyes while Sariel was the moon, with his cold gray stone-like eyes and dark hair. "And what do you want to do, Sariel, leaving them that way?" Iome asked him hotly. "You know, maybe more than me, how much this kid deserves to be happy. If there has to be only one person in the world who deserve to be happy, it's him!"

Sariel turned his cold eyes on her and observed her in silence, while she panted in front of him, from fury, then, as he flicked his cigarette in the nearby ashtray, he said coldly. "Do whatever you want, but don't come back crying to me if it fires right back at you."

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The silence remained untouched and painful, cold and mocking her in Jareth's apartment. Since Sariel had left, and that the two of them had found themselves alone together, her fingers were enough to count the numbers of words, which had been exchanged between the two of them. Sarah had to find something to tell him, anything!

But, she didn't even know what she wanted to talk to him about. She feared his answers more than the questions. She feared what his answers could bring on her. So, remained the silence. Sarah looked down at her hands again: her knuckles were all white, as she was twisting her hands nervously together, not daring to look at him.

"What do you want, Sarah?" His voice surprised her, cut through the thick silence like a knife would have. Sarah jumped and gasped loudly, then immediately clasped her hands over her mouth, berating herself with her foolish behavior. For Pete's sake, she told herself, I'm no longer fifteen!

But, it didn't help nor stop the shaking of her voice. "I… I wanted to talk." She risked a small peek at his hard profile and Jareth was indeed looking ahead of him, his fixed gaze turning him even scarier, at the air of solemnity that seemed to whirl around him.

"There, talk." He said.

Taking her courage in her hands, Sarah licked her lips, looking down, while kneeling to face him. Nervous, her voice trembled. "Jareth, I…" Sarah raised her eyes to him. He still wasn't looking at her. "About earlier, I'm sorry, it's just that, well, I believed, that you were a different being than I and… Well, I mean…" She stammered and looked for her words, but failing, she didn't add anything.

Jareth finally turned his gaze on her and with an arrogant smirk asked her. "Cat finally got your tongue?" He drawled and Sarah could have crave his eyes out with a spoon. How dared he? He was as at fault that she was. Sure, she shouldn't have blamed him like she had, but he could have explained, he could have said, she would have understood. But he didn't let her the time to vent her anger at him. "You believed." He said, his eyes pinning her where she was, muted. "You wanted to believe I was different, but I am human, Sarah." He said her name, almost like it was hurting him. Livening up, he grabbed her forearms and almost crushed them in his vice-like grip. But none paid attention. "I bleed, I hurt, I laugh and cry like humans living aboveground and I do die of old age. Why do you refuse me the possibility of being of this world?" He didn't pause to let her answer, knowing she didn't have the answer. "Sarah, I'm tired of livening up to your expectations of me. Let's drop the mask you forcibly placed on my face fourteen years ago."

Sarah shook his hands off her arms and repeated, her voice climbing few octaves in the process. "Forcibly? You could have refused the summoning and leave Toby alone, that night! You could have…"

"Yes, I could have!" Jareth yelled back, cutting her neatly. "Just like you could have not say the words, just like Toby could have not had some magic flowing in his veins!" He finished on an angry tone.

The world was sinking, the room was shaking and all Sarah knew was the new piece of information he had given her and yet, she couldn't believe him. "Toby?"

Frustrated, Jareth fell back against the wall and running a hand in his short hair, he explained with a strained voice. "Either from his mother, or his father, but someone in his family had magic and it was passed on Toby." Jareth angrily kept on, looking away. "When you called me, it was for me the occasion to take a potential magical baby." His eyes turned to her once more and turned fierce and his mouth contracted into a cynical, almost painful smirk. "By the way, this world already sucked up all the magic he could have had, so don't worry, your little Toby doesn't interest me anymore."

"Liar!" Sarah screamed. "How could this be?"

"Oh?" Jareth picked up, ironically and he asked her slowly, ironically, teasing her nastily. "So, a Fae King is easier to accept that a human with a different kind of power?" Then, his voice quickened, accusing her. "I've never thought you could be so narrow minded, Sarah."

Sarah shook her head wildly. "That's not what I meant!" She was on the verge of screaming of frustration.  "It's just that thinking that Karen could have some magical blood and…"

Jareth cut her sharply. "Who said it had to be the mother? It could be the father." He pointed out.

And it struck her. "Then what about me?" She asked, pitifully.

Jareth didn't answer her immediately. Instead, he looked at her thoughtfully for a while, before saying carefully. "It doesn't express all the time. If it's from your father, then it was suppressed by your mother's blood but with Toby, it was your father's blood which prevailed."

Shocked, Sarah's mind whirled on what he had said.  "Are you telling me magic has to do with genes and the DNA?" Her voice got drawling and she taunted him. "Yeah, right, I bet you don't even know what the DNA is."

Jareth gritted his teeth. Of course, she had to do that. "I've gone to middle and high school and even college here." He informed her, haughty. Then once more, his voice turned accusing and Jareth leaned on her. "So, yes, I know what I'm talking about and yes, it has been proved that it's an alteration in a particular gene that permits such abilities to reveal themselves."

"What?" She squealed.

Jareth snorted and leaned back on the wall. "I'm answering your question. It's a question of genes."

"You've been school aboveground." Sarah whispered as if it was a kind of revelation.

Jareth looked aside, once more, looking away, his eyes lost somewhere only he could be. "Think about it: if there is an Above world, that means that it exists an Under world. It's the same old story of the half empty glass." He told her almost wearily.

The amount of information made her brain whirl. She ran a frustrated hand in her long black hair and stammered. "I don't… I can't… It's so…" Giving up explaining what she felt, Sarah asked him bluntly. "Then, how old are you?"

"Above years, around 28, 30." Jareth said. "I never bothered to really count. Also, my years here are also the reason why Sariel, Iome and I look around the same age while the two of them are way older than me. Underground days are slower than the Aboveground ones. When I was here, except for the vacations, I was in a boarder school. Aboveground schools are reputed to give a higher level of education rather underground ones. But, it's expensive that's why a few of us only do the whole course like I did. Sariel and Iome only did college." Jareth turned his eyes in her direction: on her knees, her gaze bewildered, her hair falling on her shoulders like a waterfall, her face flustered, she was so beautiful. "We are humans, Sarah." He started softly. "Humans with magic, that's all. We're not different. Aboveground people believe we're immortal but that's false, it's just that our days are longer than yours. How come? I don't know but it is the way things are."

Sarah dropped her gaze to the ground. "That's so unbelievable…" She whispered.

And it angered him once more. Why couldn't she believe him? Why wouldn't she trust him? After all they went through together, after all they have shared, she still didn't trust him, or was it him who placed too much importance on it? Was it him who had thought they could have something together, while she… He didn't want to go down that road, he already had. Jareth gritted his teeth and pushed through. "Yeah, but that's my world. Just because you couldn't see it before means that it doesn't exist, nor that it's false."

Sarah didn't remark the biting tone or the tension building up once more in his shoulders. "Sariel…" She said softly, thinking aloud. "Sariel told me about… The Illusion Isle." She looked up at him.

"Ah, that Sariel." Jareth drawled and maybe she would have laughed if she hadn't been so uncomfortable by his piercing gaze set on her. "Even to save his own life, he wouldn't know how to keep his mouth closed. What is it, little Sarah?" He asked nastily. "What more do you want to know? My whole life?" He asked her ironically again. "Then let me tell you something, mismatched eyes are signs of bad luck, in the underground. Mismatched eyes… Monster's eyes!" His voice livened up and he took her by the arms again, pulling her roughly to him, crushing her against his chest. He approached his mouth to her ear and whispered fiercely, like giving her a secret long kept inside and finally letting it out. "I like the Devil's gaze better. Oh! And when that countess treated me of Demon's child! Mother was ready to blast her in outer space! Not because the woman treated me of Demon's child but rather because she implied Mother or Father were demons. She wasn't so far from the truth, don't you think? A beast in a human form! And a Prince, nonetheless!" His hold on her arms tightened and Sarah squirmed, trying to shake his hold off her.

Sarah squirmed out of his arms, but his hands were still attached to her arms. "Stop it!" She yelled at first. "Why are you so mad? So, I didn't know! But now I do!" She pleaded then. "So stop, stop!" She then added, on a whisper. "You're hurting me."

Jareth's hold softened and pulling with one hand on her arm, he quickly wrapped the other around her shoulders. "Humans are all alone, just bumping in each others in the way, but always alone." He was still whispering and she couldn't see his face. "Sarah, you keep on forcing your expectations on me. I am the way I am and I won't change it for you or anyone else. You wanted to know, you refused to believe me, you took everything like a joke when it's my life. You refused, once more, to see the truth, so I'm asking you, little Sarah, what do you really want from me?"

Sarah blinked and cursed inwardly, tears were coming again. "I… I… I don't know." She finally spluttered.

Jareth released her but she stayed where she was, when he said aloud. "I'm sorry dearest, but that's not an option." He raised her chin, by placing two fingers under it and surprising her, he placed his mouth against hers. Forcibly, his tongue entered her mouth and roughly brushed against hers, as if he was taking a last taste of her, as if he wanted to remember her feel against him.

Her lips were probably bruised, but she didn't care and when she felt him retreat, she threw her arms around his neck, preventing him from breaking the kiss a first time. She pressed her lips against his, leveling her lower body to place a leg each side of him, so that she could kissed him better. She was sitting on his lap, rather she was kneeling over him.

His hands traveled up her thighs to her waist and pushing her gently away, he broke the kiss, his eyes locking with hers, he said, leaving her broken. "I was asking for so little from you, so little." He whispered. "You are so cruel." Pushing her away again, Jareth stood up and walked away, while she stayed where she was, facing the wall and only then, she realized the kiss had tasted like salt, like tears.

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

The knock on the doorframe was unexpected and unwanted, so were the tears cursing their way silently down her cheeks. Sarah had sobbed this morning in Charlie's arms, but now, in Jareth's bed where she had moved after that he had left her, alone facing the wall, she was crying silently, breathing in his scent, covering the sheets. She was buried, on her stomach in his bed. "Sarah, are you all right?"

The voice was gentle and familiar, so was the hand caressing her hair. Her grip tightened on the white sheets: she had moved on his bed only to smell him. Maybe there, she could understand him and his damn twisted ways. Why had he pushed her away? The question plagued her. They were almost getting along fine, they had almost stopped arguing so why? She really didn't understand him.

Sarah finally looked up from the pillow, where she had buried her face and turned to see Sariel, sitting on the bed next to her, Iome standing up near the head of the bed, her hands on her slender hips. "What a jerk." Sarah finally let out, in a shaky voice.

"My thought exactly." Iome angrily said and she kneeled down, taking her face next to Sarah's.

"Where are my friends?" Sarah asked, looking up at Sariel, who hadn't said a word since the first question. The movement of her hand on her hair was smoothing her immensely, but she wanted to go home.

"Left already." Iome informed her and with a delicate shrug, she added. "They thought you would need some space."

"Hum." Sarah acknowledged her and nodded.

"Sarah, I have a confession to make." Sariel suddenly said and Sarah turned her attention to him.

"What?" She asked, wearily. She was tired, so tired. If Sariel and Iome hadn't come, Jareth would have found her asleep on his bed.

Sariel seemed to hesitate, then he told her softly. "Jareth Bane is his full name, not a fake name he invented." Thinking to himself, Sariel added inwardly.

Besides, he's still under my spell. Mentally, Sariel sighed and damned Jareth a little. I should have known better. Jareth has always been too quick at anger and his tongue has always been too sharp for his own good. Silly boy, you're going to regret each of the syllabus you've uttered and you're going to plague me with your regrets and sorrow. Sariel looked down at Sarah: through the curtain of her black hair, on the white sheets, her green eyes were piercing like the first leaf  of a long-awaited spring. Millibel… Sariel whispered in the corner of his mind. You should have let him in the hands of another, I'm too old to raise him a second time.

"Bane…" Sarah repeated and she turned to Iome, when the latter said.

"In the Underground, it's the mother who names the child when the child is born and when the Queen saw Jareth and his mismatched eyes, she gave him the name of  her father and the second name: Bane." Iome bit her lip. She still could see Jareth's young face when he first learned what 'Bane' meant. Betrayal and pain weren't strong enough to describe his young face and eyes at that time.

Shocked, Sarah raised in the bed. Resting on her hands, she looked alternatively between Iome and Sariel, demanding. "How could she?"

Sariel shook his head. It wasn't his or Iome's right to tell her that story. "Jareth grew up in the hatred of his name and his parents for naming him this way. He grew up in a court where everyone would mock him because of his eyes while curtsying so gracefully in front of him. How do you think he ended up? Angry. That's another of the reasons why he took over the Illusion Citadel."

"Where is he, now?" Iome asked Sarah, but the latter only shook her head, downcast.

"I don't know, he left a while ago."

"What a jerk." Iome growled and Sarah collapsed back on the bed. "I'm going to fetch him and make him take you home." Sarah heard Iome leave the room and raised her face in alarm.

"No, it's okay, I…" But Iome cut her, saying over her shoulder.

"No. If you call a cab, it will be known that you were here and god knows the vultures outside would love it and Sariel, nor I, can drive, only Jareth learnt. So, we have not many choices, here."

Sarah didn't answer, but even if she did Iome wouldn't have heard, as she had already exited Jareth's apartment.

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Iome easily located Jareth: it was her own particular power. Jareth was in the music room, as expected when he was upset. The house music room was giant: it occupied all the second floor of the house, from where they could even see the glittering ocean. The journalists and photographers were gone, for they had waited hours in front of the mansion, without a reaction and they had left shortly after noon. Iome could tell by the position of the sun she could see through one of the window pane of the ceiling that it was around three in the afternoon. The music room was Jareth's little sanctuary: the ceiling was just a juxtaposition of windows, so that he could always see the sky.

The room wasn't really one, it was rather the attic of the house and it held Jareth's touch everywhere. Some places, it was faint, almost invisible, but it was there, in the presence of a careless sheet of music, on which was scribbled something, looking like a melody or lyrics. Other places, it was a vest, a shirt even. Otherwise, a forgotten coffee mug, half empty of cold coffee. Here was where Jareth composed and played to himself. Here, he was almost at peace.

Jareth was sitting on a window frame: one of his leg inside the house, the other outside, hanging in space. Jareth was aware of her presence, at the way his shoulders had stiffened and how he stubbornly kept his gaze outside. Iome paced closer and put her hands behind her back. "Jareth, take her home." She said softly.

"No."

Iome frowned sadly and one of her hands extended to brush his hair out of  his eyes, but stopped midway and fell back to her side. "Jareth." She called against, sadly.

Jareth didn't turn to her when he answered. "You can lie to her but you can't lie to me." His tone was harsh and his stance tense. The meeting had been as difficult on him than it had been on Sarah. Why had he pushed her away? He, himself, didn't know. All he knew was that he couldn't stand no more that salt kiss, tasting like her tears. He couldn't stand it, so he brushed it away.

"Take her home, Jareth." Iome's voice somewhere insisted, but Jareth almost didn't hear it. "She needs it." Iome said again.

"What about me?" Jareth suddenly asked. He wasn't even looking outside: even to save his own life he wouldn't even be able to say what the scenery was like.

Iome sighed, upset and asked him back, in a wry tone. "Why did we come here, if not for you?"

This time, Jareth did turn his head and rolled his eyes at her. "You're really pissing me off."

"Bah." Iome shrugged and came closer, enough to pull on his arm. "Move on."

But Jareth didn't bulge even an eyebrow. "Iome."

"What?" Her hand still on his arm, she stilled and waited.

Jareth finally started to explain, after a few minutes of silence. "I didn't think it could go wrong so quickly." He wasn't looking at her, he was looking at all he's said, at all he's done since he had decided to go aboveground, to go to her. "I knew she had a horrible temper, that somewhere along the line, we would have fought, but so quickly…" Jareth paused once more, a sad smile lingered on his lips. Then, quicker than the time needed to say it, his expression changed and turned darker than she had even seen. "This may have been a terrible mistake."

Finally, Iome released him and stepped back, as he threw his leg inside, standing up. Jareth was towering over her with a good head and he was dashingly handsome. His features were so beautifully made that he could have been right out of a dream. It really wasn't fair: to be so beautiful and so broken inside. "Really?" Iome challenged him. "How can you tell? It's not over until you say so." Putting her fists on her hips, Iome looked up and down at him. He hadn't changed clothes, but at least he had bathed, she remarked. However the shoulders were held high more by habitudes than by feeling. "Jareth…" Iome started soflty. What she was going to say was either going to unleash his fury on her, either make him ignore her. "I know you almost since you were born. I saw you grow up, I saw you pulling the strings to your advantage, I saw you flirt with people you scorned, I saw you turn your back to people you loved, each time I saw the would getting wider and deeper. This may be your only chance to mend it all and…" Jareth cut her.

"Where is she?" He demanded.

He didn't want to hear any further. "Crying, again." Iome paused, as Jareth started to move in the direction of the exit. "In Sariel's arms." Oh, she knew which buttons were needed to be pushed. "On your bed." This was the last blow.

Jareth froze and his hand, which had been on the railway, tightened. "Hum." As he had walked past her, all that Iome could see was his back.

But she knew better. "You're really messed up, you know."

Jareth turned his face to look at her and smiled to her. "She's messing me up." The smile surprised her, as it was a real smile, a genuine smile. A recognition, a proof, maybe a solution, probably a downfall.

Iome stared and asked bluntly, without being able to stop herself. "If she's so vital to you, why don't you give it a go? Jareth, isn't she worth it?" She pleaded with him, approaching him, resting her hands on his shoulders, as he had descended a few steps already, but her words had stopped him once more.

Jareth remained silent and finally admitted. "I don't know."

"Really?" She pushed but Jareth shook his head lightly.

"I'll think over it."

Iome pulled back her hands angrily and pushed him, so that she could go down first. As she past, she saw his surprised face at her behavior and she bit a little too aggressively. "Then think fast, otherwise the lady could decide you are not worth another try." Whirling on the steps to face him, as she had descended two more steps than Jareth, she had to look up at him. "She came here, Jareth, she came after your fight this morning, she came by herself trying to patch up things. She cares, why don't you?"

Jareth's face immediately darkened and brushing past her again, he whispered loud enough so that she could hear him. "You talk too much."

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Still on Jareth's bed, sitting on it her legs crossed under her, hugging his pillow to her chest, Sarah mumbled, her voice a bit muffled by the pillow as she had brought it high enough to scent it. "He's like a rough diamond." She confessed to Sariel. "So many different facets that when I think I finally caught him, another one reveals itself and I'm lost all over again. And then, when I try to turn the diamond, his rough facets cut into my skin and push me away. I don't want…" Sarah didn't keep on. She didn't know what she didn't want to. Oh, she knew she didn't want to go on like that, but she couldn't let go of him either.

Sariel leaned on one of the column of Jareth's bed. "A rough diamond, huh?" He smirked.

Sarah looked up from the pillow and grinned sadly. "Even though your physical appearance is different and so is your voice, the feeling is the same, Hoggle." How many times had she sat on her bed and whispered her secrets to Hoggle, in the mirror.

How many times had she called him? She had called less often after college but he had understood and then, three years ago, even if she called he wouldn't come. Sarah had been worried, till one day, as she came back from work, she had found him, waiting for her, in her mirror like usual. She remembered he had looked strained and worn out and he had told her he wouldn't be able to come as one of his most important persons had died. Sarah had known long ago than Hoggle had a little group of persons he held dearly to his heart, but she would have never thought, this group included Jareth and his sister.

Sariel smiled and shrugged. "Hum, it was me. You could say that Hoggle is one of my many facets."

"But yours are more polished." She pointed out and Sariel couldn't help but chuckle.

"Ah. I'm doing my best at 'polishing' his since he was 5 but as you could see yourself, up until now, no luck."

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Iome ran in the room, surprising the two on the bed, telling them hastily that Jareth was driving Sarah back to her place and as she put on her shoes, Sariel scribbled something on a paper he put in Sarah's hand with a wink and a quick whispered advice of hiding it from Jareth. Then, Iome ushered her to the basement and Jareth.

Jareth was driving a black car and when she saw the color, she couldn't say she was surprised. Everything about him seemed black, at the moment. Sighing, as Jareth was already in the car, waiting for her, not acknowledging her in any way, Sarah climbed in, waving a sad goodbye at Iome and Sariel. The ride home wasn't exactly the warmest ever. Sarah felt like she was sitting next to an iceberg and despite a few abrupt questions of general directions, Jareth didn't unclench his teeth.

The only sound in the small car was coming from the radio, but Sarah didn't pay attention as she stubbornly focused her gaze on the scenery passing by. She didn't want to look at him and see rejection all over again. She knew if she did she would ask him the fatal question. Why? But, then, the announcer's cherry voice attracted her ear.

"Next, we'll have the Kings new single! Innamoramento!"

Sarah jumped in surprise and couldn't help but threw Jareth a quick glance but his face revealed nothing. Disappointed, even if she didn't know why she was feeling that way, Sarah hastily turned away too and looked outside. The song came to life and Sarah tried to focus on the lyrics. Maybe they would help her to resolve a riddle called Jareth.

You who couldn't recognize me

Ignoring my life, this monastery,

I have a half open door in front of me

On a maybe

Even if I have to start all over again

You who didn't believe in my loneliness

Ignoring its cries, its sharp angles,

I have in my heart a tiny linen

Moon filament

Which supports here, an used diamond

But who loves

I didn't choose to be
But it's here, the "Innamoramento"

Love, death, maybe

But to freeze time for a word

Everything dilates itself and surrenders to you

And it's here, the "Innamoramento"

All its being impose itself to me
Find maybe finally an echo

You who didn't see the other side of

My memory with condemned doors

I have buried the past treasures

The wounded years

Do you understand I'll have to cease

I who haven't looked at the sky,

I have a half open door in front of me, but

The unknown has wounded more than one heart

And his soul mate

We hope for it, we wait for it, we even flee it,

But we love

I didn't choose to be
But it's here, the "Innamoramento"

Love, death, maybe

But to freeze time for a word

Everything dilates itself and surrenders to you

And it's here, the "Innamoramento"

All its being impose itself to me
To find maybe finally an echo.

Sarah gulped. He had said in his interview he was writing with his moods, meaning everything came from him and his emotions. It was on the tip of her lips, she wanted to ask him, but afraid to. Who was he singing for?

And she remembered: a whispered promise, in a bathtub, a murmured response, eyes burning with a fire she wouldn't see again. He had told her everything was done for her. Could she also hope he was singing for her?  Turning to him, Sarah looked for her words, when the car came to a stop. They were in front of her building and she hadn't realized it until the very last moment, when he had stopped the car.

"Jareth…" She tried to say how sorry she was for the way things had turned out, she was trying to explain she didn't want to let go, she was willing to say how wonderful waking up next to him, bathing with him had been and above all that she felt more than hatred or plain friendship for him. But he didn't let her the chance to.

"We're here." His hands tightened on the wheel. He never looked at her. "Goodbye, Sarah." Wounded, Sarah exited the car, without a word, another glance, painfully knowing it was useless to expect a sign from him.

As the car speeded away, Sarah turned a last time towards it and when Jareth rounded the corner, she could have sworn she had seen him furiously rub his left eye.

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I told you they were MONSTERS to write, these dialogues! Well, I hope you liked them, just as I enjoyed writing them (yes, that's just plain weird, I actually enjoyed writing this monstrosity, does this mean I enjoy stuff which hurt me? … Let's us not go down this road, human's brain [and mainly mine] is too weird to deal with.)

The song "Innamoramento" belongs to a French singer Mylène Farmer, from whom I've already used another song in another story (hint, hint: another Labyrinth story.)

Anyway, see you around, mikim.