He rose to meet her when she came towards the swing. She stopped a few feet away; he regarded her with one of his classic bored expressions. "Jareth." Sarah said, not even bothering with his title. He was on her turf now, here she was queen. Or so she thought.
"Your Majesty." He said, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he gave her a mock bow. A look of surprise crossed Sarah's features before a steely look settled into her dark eyes. He'd been reading her mind.
"Stay out of here." Sarah snapped, tapping her temple lightly. "What I think is my business, and I was stupid to think you had changed." Sarah was boiling with rage inside, his smile had been false and she'd been a fool. She turned on her heel and left. She was almost three steps away when she was stopped. Jareth's hand gripped her arm just above the elbow. She spun, coming face to face with her old one time nemesis, her arm still gripped tightly in his hand. She studied his face as best she could in the dim light radiated by the yard lights. He was exactly as she remembered, hair askew, those unsettling eyes, and his pale skin made him almost glow in the darkness. Her eyes roamed over his face, he said nothing, something was different, something was wrong. "Let go of me." She whispered.
"As you wish." Jareth's voice was sharp and harsh in the air. He released her at once. Sarah stepped back and looked him over from head to toe. She squinted in the dim light trying to figure out what was different about him. It was the breeze rustling his hair that made her realize what was off.
"No glitter." Sarah said it almost accusingly; last time they met every time he appeared there was glitter flying around everywhere.
"No glitter," his cultured voice lit back, "no glitter because no magic." He smiled to himself; she was a sharp one, eyes like a hawk.