A/N- The regular diclaimer.

...words are binding...

Jareth sighed, his eyes lingering on the sleeping face in his crystal. Even in slumber it looked as stubbornly determined as the girl to whom it belonged to. His Sarah. The phrase sent a delightful tickle down his back, he had thought it so often and now… Now it was true. So he wasn't being fair, he wasn't being nice. It didn't matter, he had finally gotten what he wanted. No, that still wasn't true. He had Sarah yes, but he still did not have her. Not physically, he was not so crude as to be vexed he had not yet claimed her as his, especially when he could do that whenever, if ever, he chose to. But that he did not have her, she did not look at him with the same passion with which he watched her, she did not miss his presence, alone in the dark. She did not long for his mismatched eyes, did not need to listen to his voice. He had no claim to her heart, even if she now belonged to him in body.

He could feel the old anger inside him, coiled beneath the surface, how could she reject him? Leave him? An ego that had never been brushed let alone bruised, she had flayed it alive and wiped her feet on it as she walked out the door. But she was his now, his to do as he wanted with, he had offered her everything, offered her himself, with no way out if she accepted, words were binding. But she hadn't accepted, and now she had no way out. She would learn, he would teach her. He would shatter the lie. She would learn to fear him yes, learn to do as he wished. But most importantly, he would be able to see the light in her eyes when she saw him, he would be able to hear the change in her voice when he walked into her presence, she would learn to love him.

...words are binding...

Sarah awoke in the near dark. The dim light that had painted her room as she rocked herself asleep had faded away to the haunting flickering of candles. No, not candles, small orbs, crystals, were fixed to silver sets in the wall, providing the wavering glow that was illuminating the small room. It was an unwelcome reminder of whose hospitality she was enjoying. She sat up, wincing as her cramped muscles protested, and swung her feet off the bed. The room itself was small, just big enough to house all of the furniture without seeming cramped. The balcony's clear glass doors were still hanging open, a light breeze making the wall hangings dance. The wind smelled strange, perfumed by unknown flowers, dusty and foreign, but somehow… reassuring. It was a safe smell. There were two doors in her room, both dark wood matching the dark of her furniture. Sarah stood and went to one and pulled it open. It lead to a small bathroom, surprisingly light compared to the darkness of the room she had just left. The same stone floor but the stones lead into a light almost white color as they dropped off into a sunken tub. There was only one window in the room, barely a foot high, it ran the length of the wall along the ceiling. The glass of the window was fogged, but a few of the panels were tilted open, letting the breeze in as well, hinges to show they could be closed as well. Sarah snorted; obviously someone was trying to get on her good side. She went back into the bedroom, she could deal with this, she would find Jareth and tell him that if he wanted to be nice to her, just let her go, and if he wouldn't do that, at least let her run the Labyrinth in place of Karen, give her a chance to be free. She would probably do a better job of getting through then her step-mother anyways, seeing as she had already managed it.

Sarah went to the other door she hadn't yet opened and put her hand on the wrought silver handle. Jareth couldn't be totally unreasonable, could he? The knob wouldn't turn. She put both hands on it, rattling the locked door. "Damn it Jareth! Let me out!" The door did not open. With a frustrated cry Sarah threw herself against it, slamming her fist on the wood. Alright, maybe he could be totally unreasonable. She leaned against the door for a moment, her breathing slightly heavy, more from panic then exertion. Fine. Jareth may want to keep her prisoner, but who said she had to be complacent about it? He wanted to keep her, make him work for it, she wasn't going to sit around like some pretty caged bird waiting for him to come listen to her sing. She ran to the balcony, peering over the edge. A terraced balcony lay directly below hers, perhaps fifteen feet down. It was much larger then her own, a good twenty feet across, but beyond the stone railing of the terrace was a drop. Sarah suddenly pulled her head back feeling slightly queasy. She had no idea that the Goblin Castle was positioned on a cliff. She hadn't noticed when she had approached it from the front, but now, she saw no trace of the labyrinth she had journeyed through, but a good thousand foot fall. Not even a sea beneath it, just a rugged cliff and the faint hint of a river before it was consumed by darkness. Sarah swallowed hard. Whatever, first she would make it to the balcony, and use whatever door was there to make it out of the castle, and through the Labyrinth, and then she would find someway home, screw Jareth.

She looked around her room, the standard equipment for this sort of thing was bed sheets, but Sarah wasn't sure she trusted that idea. If she could rip them by hand, whose to say they wouldn't rip under her weight? Maybe tying together clothing. She opened the door of the wardrobe and nearly coughed at the sight that greeted her eyes. He actually expected her to wear these? The clothes in the wardrobe didn't look sturdy enough to wear let alone climb down from a balcony on. But what could you expect from a man who wore those pants? He certainly didn't have any qualms about showing off his attributes. Sarah slowly shut the door and looked around once more, the bed sheet idea was beginning to sound the most practical. The wall hangings would work but she saw no way to tie them together, and the steel bars they rested on brought no easy solution to mind. Sarah scowled, turning once again to look at the balcony, before blinking. The drapes. Hanging from either side of the oversized glass doors were long curtains, perfectly sized to tie together and still have enough to climb down on. Sarah grabbed the vanity chair and stood on it to carefully lower the metal bar they were hanging on down. She took one curtain off of the bar, but left the other one threaded on, she would need some place to tie her escape rope to, and the bed was to far away. As it was she could just leave one curtain threaded and leave the bar on the floor, it was too long to fit past the door, so it would jam and hold her weight until she reached the balcony below. She tied the curtains together, as tightly as she was able too. So her father was finally right, Girl Scouts had come in handy, if only for the knot work.

Sarah lowered the loose end over the edge of her balcony; it fell almost to the waiting terrace below. Far below. How… wonderful. Suddenly the escape idea seemed a little foolish, staring down at that ridiculous cliff, since when was the Goblin Castle on a cliff anyways? It wasn't fair. Sarah straightened up as those words echoed in her head, taking the make-shift rope firmly in her hands. It wasn't fair but so what? The memory of Jareth's sneer as she had indignantly cried her protest was enough to make her move to the edge of the balcony. It wasn't fair, that was true, and she could live with it. She wasn't going to let a little thing like a thousand foot drop stop her. She shut her eyes tightly. "Here goes nothing." Quickly she swung one leg over the edge, clinging to the smooth material of the curtain, the next leg and she was hanging over the side of the balcony, knees gripping the rope as well. But then she started to slide, the material in her hands was to smooth, slippery under her grip. Down, down, it seemed like an eternity to her as she slid, hovering over the edge of a cliff, "I hate you Jareth, I hate you Jareth, I hate you Jareth." The words served better then curses. Then, stone beneath her feet, blessedly solid stone and she dropped to her hands and knees, her nerves still humming with the adrenaline of the decent.

"Sarah, how nice of you to… drop by."

A/N- I want to once again thank everyone who reviewed, it is appreciated more then words suffice to say. Wow, of course that dosen't make me seem desperate for ego inflation. What I guess I mean to say is it is appreciated, especially as I have a habit of dropping off on minor cliff hangors. (No pun intended for this chapter.) I give my excuses for letting Jareth get away with having no one run the Labyrinth in his excuse to Sarah. Honestly, I think it could be either way, but for the convience of my fic I slipped that in, hopefully believably enough. As to Jareth's intentions for Sarah, who says roses don't bloom in hell? My Jareth is a little confused to be out of the role of suave sophisticated seducer, this being the first time he got his emotions mixed up in it, so he's a little confused on how to act. Of course, it's Sarah's own words that finally damn her.And that would be more of a preview then I intended to give. Enjoy.

Oh, and I have to recognize Edgar Allen Poe for the title of this chapter, it just fit so perfectly I had to borrow it.