Disclaimer: I own nothing *cries* not even Jareth. Again – But I Wish I Did! But no – there is nothing I own... And I'm a poor student, so don't bother to sue me….

A/N: Sorry -  I have writer's block on my other fic – I did know where it was going, but I can't make up my mind, so I'll just wait and see what my mind comes up with *grins*.
Thank you so much to reviewers… RE Vegeta, if-666, Nimhithriel, Daemon faerie queen, LabyLvrPhyx, sheena, scifimimi and Xelena. =D You guys rock, and I'm glad you seem to like it – sorry if it doesn't seem to make much sense yet!
~Cariah.

Too Late?
By Cariah Delonne.

Chapter 3

Two years passed aboveground before Sarah even thought of Jareth again.

It was a quiet sunny morning, she was on the small balcony her room allowed her – alone with a treasured book and the day stretching ahead like a glorious summer break.

The rest home was not wholly bad – sure there were disadvantages – small rooms, old people, and often the meals lacked somewhat in interest. However, she no longer had to do any major cooking or cleaning, and if she should feel in the mood, there were plenty of other people her generation to converse with. It was not such a lonely life, really.

Jareth occasionally watched her, his owl form sometimes arousing a little suspicion in other residents – flying in the middle of the day. Sarah, however, never noticed him. He was determined to watch her closer this time, she was so… so… old, it scared him to think that one day he might appear to an aboveground devoid of all but her memory.

Her words cut him, "You cannot fear the one you love," and his thoughts often returned to both that night, and the one a half-century ago. Perhaps this was why, even then, she had refused him. Perhaps even then, she had been able to comprehend something like love – a concept he had, in all his years of study and reading, failed to grasp.

On this particular morning, he watched her with curious eyes. So much had not changed – still stubborn, still independent and defiant, as she would remain to the last.

On this morning however, he was not going to let her evade him. She could not leave this plane of existence without first realizing something vital about him. He did not lose. After fifty or more years, he was not about to admit defeat.

Sarah looked up from her book as a shadow seemed to fall over the world. Indeed, as she watched the sky, she realized the sun had been completely blocked by heavy clouds – strange weather for the middle of summer…

"Strange weather, for the middle of summer, isn't it Sarah?" came a satirical voice. She looked up in time to see Jareth as he changed into his human form.
"I should have known," she muttered.

He raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Sarah," he admonished, "For all your years, you simply do not comprehend subtle things…" he swept his hand around him to take in the landscape.

Silence greeted her.

Her mouth formed a silent O, and she looked at him questioningly. She was in no mood for a battle of wits.
"Jareth," she sighed, "Why are you here? I thought we decided I did not want to play your games."
Jareth smirked, "No, dear Sarah. You decided. And now, someone else has decided for you." He took her quickly into his arms, and in a flash they had disappeared, leaving behind reality and sense for the third time in her life.

*****

Upon reaching dry land, Sarah spluttered angrily. "How dare you! You have no right!"

Clicking his tongue disapprovingly, Jareth turned to face her. "You know very well, Sarah, I have rights to do many things. I have the right to take mortals from the aboveground at my whim, I have the right to demand that any I deem worthy of traversing the labyrinth, may be offered the challenge. I have the right to blackmail, I have the right to be a King. You would do well to remember that."

"But… but I have said nothing – done nothing!"

Again, he smirked, watching her with amusement as one might watch a small child try to do a jigsaw puzzle. "Sarah… do you honestly think that the only method of transportation here is by that silly little book? That I would place the welfare of my kingdom on one, singular, story?"

Sarah looked at him, shocked. It had never occurred to her that there may be other ways. "And what have I done?" 

Again, he laughed. "Nothing Sarah – that's my point – you don't need to do anything. When you first came, you wished your brother away – therefore you set the main rules – the rules in that silly book applied – I had no power over you besides that which it offered me. I would have thought, since you stuck to the intentions of the heroine so faithfully, that you would have understood that."  Her expression told him she hadn't. He laughed. "Now, I am not bound by any book, or any rules – I chose to bring you here – you are here under my conditions. I have power over you that I never had before." 

She frowned, and her hands reached up to her face, where once again, the lines had been wiped smooth. Tenderly, his hand came to meet hers. She pulled away as if she had been burnt. Her eyes hardened, and she accepted her fate. She would have to play his game – she would have to play by his rules. Last time, he had been… generous… in his terms - but had that been the book?

"For the last time Sarah," he whispered in her ear, "Take my offer – your dreams, on a golden platter – you know the conditions…" she shook her head obstinately. Sneering, he waved his hand, and she found herself standing in the midst of the glass ballroom. "It will not be offered again…" his voice trailed off as the dancers swirled around her dizzyingly.

She fainted.