She has always known him to be cruel. From the moment he snatched away her younger brother, it was there. The satisfaction in his eyes at her dismay, his malicious laughter as she was confronted with the supposedly insurmountable labyrinth.
But this she does not expect. And perhaps more fool her, for underestimating him.
Since her victory, Sarah's friends kept their word. She did need them for no reason at all save that she loved them. And each month, when the moon reached its peak, they visited. Movie nights when her parents were out, rousing games of scrabble and charades left her smiling the next day. Long, frantic talks til the early hours of morning eased the fears of her heart that crept steadily back in during their absences.
After the first year, they surprised her with a grander treat than she could have ever imagined. Returning to the labyrinth, its dusty roads and orange-lit sky. Its darkness and excitement and endless possibilities.
The reality that it did exist.
From then on, every third visit was hers to make, journeying back into the Underground, sighing with nostalgic relief every time her feet met the cobblestones.
Even as she grew older and years passed, Sarah never once neglected those meetings, never failed to make time for those so precious to her. Steadfast in her faithfulness lest she miss an opportunity to laugh with Hoggle, hear one of Didymus' grand tales and ostentatious shows of loyalty, receive one of Ludo's hugs that made her feel so safe, so loved.
But then, one night they did not come. Their next meeting was filled with tearful apologies, thin excuses that sounded wrong from their lips, like they were repeating someone else's words. And Hoggle's eyes tightened when she said so.
It grew more frequent. One month passed, then two and three. So many that Sarah feared she might never see them again. And with that fear came rage. Rage that made her speak the words, the goblins coming at her demand and whisking her Underground. With trembling claws and terrified red eyes, they scattered as soon as she found her feet outside the entrance to the labyrinth.
And now, with hands on hips and brows drawn low, she waits, knowing he will not ignore such impudence.
A swirl of shimmering dust and he appears. Draped in black from head to heel, the Goblin King looms like a shadow, his eyes narrow slits.
"Let me see them." Commanding and pleading, Sarah dares to speak first.
A mistake. A dark smile twists his lips and she knows the words are not the right ones. "Who?" Too innocent, mocking her.
"My friends, damn you! Hoggle and Sir Didymus and Ludo."
The muscles in his jaw tighten and his arms cross. Black leather creaks softly as his hands clench into fists. "Ah, yes. Poor Sarah, longing for companions who cannot see you."
No longer a fearful girl caught up easily in tricks, she spits, "Cannot is very different than will not. They want to see me! It's you! You're keeping them away, keeping me from them."
The Goblin King says nothing, continues that horrible smile. Confirming his guilt as if it doesn't matter.
"Why do you hate me so?" It is too much, knowing her friends want her as much as she does them. Knowing this King amuses himself with her pain. Her green eyes accuse him, shamelessly beg him.
And for a moment, his smile freezes, falters.
Then deliberately twists into a grimace. "I do not hate you," he snaps. Such venom laces his voice that it seems he wishes he could.
"You're a terrible liar!" Sarah meets him glare for glare, furious spots of red in her cheeks. "Why else would you keep them from me?"
"It has only been by my generosity that you have seen those retches at all!"
The words crack like a lash, cutting just as deep. And it is with horror that Sarah knows them to be true.
One moment he is feet away and the next he stands right above her, his piercing eyes bright with fury. "For years I have watched you consort with those miserable creatures. For years I have endured your laughter, your smiles, your wit given to fools. I have seen them console you and rile you, please you and irritate you. And every moment was a gift, only received by my will."
Lips parted, eyes wide, Sarah cannot find her words. The anger in her has died, replaced by bewilderment.
His gaze runs over her face, lingers too long. Much quieter now, he scoffs but with less malice, "Did you think Hoggle arrived in your room by his own power? That Didymus pulled you into the Underground by sheer force of will? So much you learned in this place, and yet so little you seem to remember."
Nothing is as it seems.
You take too much for granted.
A faint echo in her mind, pounding in her heart.
"But why?" she whispers. Why help her? Why allow meetings he despises? Why not tell her until now?
The Goblin King–Jareth holds her gaze, searches for some answer there. Finally, he murmurs, "As I said, I do not hate you."