A/N- The regular disclaimer, I do not own Labyrinth, as depressing as it is.
...words are binding...
Jareth lived in a world of rules, King he may be, but all of his actions were governed by the very same laws that granted him his power. When summoned he must respond, yet until called for, he could not interfere. Absolute obedience was his to demand in the Underground, yet he could not even venture Aboveground in his natural form, until his presence was called for. He could not exact any revenge, nor press any advantage, or risk shattering his rule. To break the laws was to destroy himself, for though words were only words, the power they brought and the ruin they could cause were very real indeed, as Sarah had so aptly proven.
Sarah… The name itself was still painful to the Goblin King. How could such a girl, a mere slip of a girl defeat him? Reject him… For the first time in his life Jareth had tasted rejection and the flavor was still bitter in his mouth. And he could do nothing about it. For the first time in his life he had no recourse, no revenge, for the first time he felt trapped in the Underground. He had taken the girl's brother as she had wished, but what need did he have of a baby? No, he had taken the boy for Sarah. It was strange the first time he had seen her, alone in the park with only her dog, she had captivated him. So he watched her, watched her in his crystals, watched her as a snow white owl outside her window. And she had called him.
So yes, he had taken the boy, why wouldn't he? And through the boy he had intended to take Sarah. When she ran his labyrinth, lost to his labyrinth, he would have given her the option, would she trade herself for the boy? And in the Underground, words were binding. But she hadn't lost. She had conquered his labyrinth, was about to conquer him. So he chose his words carefully. Let me rule you… But she didn't stop, maybe she didn't see, so he offered more. Just fear me, love me, do as I say… In the Underground words were binding… And I will be your slave... He had offered her everything.
And she had refused? He still couldn't believe it, a year later and the taste was still bitter in his mouth. He tried to stop watching her, but staring at his crystals he found his gaze drawn to her face, on soft wings Aboveground, he found himself her silent white shadow. She was nearly driving him mad. Nothing he could do, no recourse, no way to make her see, no way to make her hurt as he hurt. Words were binding. You have no power over me. No power. No power. Until now. When called he was always forced to appear, besides, it was rude to refuse a gift, especially one as generous as the one he had just been given. This time he had been given the upper hand, this time there would be no game, no race, no possibility of exchange. This time she was his. In the Underground words are binding…
...words are binding...
"Hello Sarah." The words sent a chill down her back, a tremor through her body, though she stopped it as quickly as she could. She didn't turn around though, knowing what she would see. Or more appropriately, who. All of the sudden she found herself hoping, for perhaps the first time in her life, her step-mother was right.
"Why are you here, Jareth?" Still not turning around. If I can't see you, you can't see me. A child's fantasy. Jareth however was no fantasy a child would ever come up with.
"You know very well why I'm here Sarah-" The words struck a note, a gentle mockery of the last time he had been summoned. To Sarah the words suddenly seemed much more ominous, the soft, untraceable cadence he spoke with, suddenly dangerous. "To collect what is mine." She could feel the smirk, the smug, self-satisfied little smile of egotism. That particular Jareth smile, secure in the knowledge of his own brilliance. She turned around then, slowly, uncertain whether she really wanted to turn, wanted to see the King of Goblins, or refuse to look, resolutely remain staring at the room in front of her, denying his existence. He looked as imposing as he had the first time she had set eyes on him, the self-confidence that infused every action still dripping from his form. He was not conventionally pretty, not handsome, but the way he held himself, the poise and self-assurance that radiated from him made him beautiful. Dangerous. Sarah stood for a moment; staring at him the way she had stared at him the first time she had seen him. She had played for high stakes last time, but this was different, this time she was the stake. The knowledge made her look at him more closely, her opponent, her enemy, her adversary. Her demon. Ready to give her her dreams, who really needs their soul anyways? Damn Karen.
"Sarah, if I realized you liked to stare at me so, I would have just given you a portrait. " The words snapped her back to the present, she could feel the heat in her cheeks as she realized she had been staring. As if Jareth needed the ego boost. She averted her eyes from him quickly, ready to make a scathing retort, but found that the scene that awaited her suitably distracted her from responding to his taunt. They weren't in her bedroom anymore. The cold stone of the goblin castle surrounded her, though the decor of the room they were in was much different then what she had encountered before. Dark tapestries covered most of the walls and an open balcony behind her was catching the last rays of sunlight in a parody of her room. It was much more elegant then the throne room she had seen last time, nowhere near as primitive or crude as the mess that the goblins had left.
But it was still the Underground. It might have been the Underworld as far as Sarah was concerned, she would have been equally as happy to be visiting there. It was the contents of the room that set her off balance as she turned away from him once more, to gaze at the furnishings. A wardrobe, a vanity, a carved wooden bed… Please don't let it be his room. "Where are we?"
"Your room, Pet." Oh. My room. That's good. Wait… She glanced at him, still not facing him completely.
"Jareth, I don't need a room. As soon as Karen gets to the castle, I'm out of here. I think I can survive for thirteen hours without a… What?" She stopped at the expression on his face, the smirk had returned accompanied by one sardonically arched eyebrow.
"I don't think you understand, Sarah. I'm not a gambling man, you taught me better yourself. But then who wouldn't be tempted to trade tinsel for diamonds? I played and I lost, but not even I am fool enough Pet, to bet when there are no stakes. There will be no game, no race. I have merely accepted a very generous present, nothing more. I really do hope you find your room suitable."
For the second time that day Sarah just stared. No game? No race? He couldn't be serious. There had to be a way out. He couldn't be serious. "What… What do you mean Jareth?" Her voice was uncertain even to her own ears.
"I meant what I said. I hope you like your room for it will be yours for a very long time…"
"But that's… That's not fair!" Jareth always seemed to inspire those words in her, but that didn't stop his form from slowly fading out, even as she watched him. "Don't you dare leave me here Goblin King! Don't you dare!"
Jareth dared. Sarah turned and hurled herself onto the narrow wooden bed, the covers soft beneath her face. She was on the verge of tears. Her father had always told her she cried easily, ever since she was very young she would turn to tears, perhaps that was what had lead him to spoil her slightly. But this time Sarah thought even he would agree she had just cause. More then just cause. She had wanted to put the Labyrinth behind her, not forget, never forget, but move on. She hadn't wanted to come back, and most certainly hadn't wanted to come back as Jareth's personal guest. Jareth. The Goblin King. A puzzle wrapped inside an enigma hidden inside a riddle. After running the Labyrinth she had had ample time to think about it. About him. About the feel of his hand on her waist, the gentle force with which he had lead her in their single dance. The fire that was smoldering in his eyes, burning so deeply she didn't even want to look in case she was seared. She hadn't had time to think of him during the race- alright, that was a lie. She hadn't wanted to think of him as she fought her way closer to his castle. She hadn't understood, wasn't sure she wanted to understand. Until after. He was one of the reasons she wanted to leave the Labyrinth and all it stood for behind. Because she did understand, because she found that maybe she wasn't as against it as she wanted to be. Because she found that she still dreamed of that shadowy dance. She still dreamed of his presence, the smug confidence in which he draped himself, the tantalizing offer she had understood far too late. No. No, she had defeated him, she didn't want this, didn't want him, that was all there was to it. She was an actress, a creature of beautiful lies, what did one more count for? Especially when she wanted to believe it herself.
Thoughts running in circles around her head, she buried her face in the pillow. If she closed her eyes, it smelled almost like home. Eventually, she fell asleep, her pillow still unmarked by the wet stains of tears.
A/N- A big hug to the two who reviewed, because you're wonderful, way to boost my ego. As if it needed it.