A/N: Thanks so much to everyone following this story, every review really does mean the world to me. Regarding this chapter I will say that things have to get worse before they get better between these two! Hope you enjoy it and merry christmas!
The moon hung low in the sky, ghosting Sarah's face with it's light. As she breathed in the scented air, holding it within her chest, time seemed to stop if only for a moment. In her lungs she held the starlight and the breeze, trying to halt the world from turning around her. But when she sighed, soft and low, she found it did nothing to stop her own racing mind.
It had been two days since she'd seen Jareth. Two days. He had taken her words to heart it seemed, and she wasn't sure if she was grateful for it or not. She had stayed in her room mostly, only interacting with the few goblins she had seen to bring her food and books. Altogether it seemed to be a pertinacious battle of wills, a game of which one of them would break and make the first move. She feared she was losing.
Their last meeting had been tumultuous at best and catastrophic at its worst. She felt wholly wronged at his dishonesty, broken by the prospect that he was toying with her life for his own gain. But yet a secret part of her, one she tried hard to bury, almost understood why he did it. A secret part of her thought she would have done the same.
It seemed hard for them to control their tempers around the other. But there was something about him that drove her to the brink...just as something about her drove him just the same way. And hindsight was a treacherous thing, perhaps she had taken her words too far...Maybe she was too harsh at the man trying to save his world. If their situations were reversed she honestly could not say if she would be as noble as she thought he should be. But she hoped she would be honest. That was the thought that tortured her the most.
So as the sun set on their second day of silence, she found herself walking towards the throne room. She had decided that she would break first; she would be the better person and try to salvage whatever was left. She didn't think he had it in him to do the same.
Wine. What a marvellous invention Jareth pondered. It dulled almost every sense and memory he held within him, and Gods knew that he needed it. In his throne room he had come across his goblins, all indulging themselves in the peculiar substance. He had watched them for a while, drunkenly mumbling to each other and laughing with such a carefree air that it drove him to pick up his own cup and join them. He longed for that innocence they had, the ability to truly enjoy their lives without fear of punishment or consequences. What a wonderful thing it would be he thought, to be a goblin.
It had been two days since he had laid eyes on Sarah. Two whole days. As he watched the sun set once more, signalling the end of another day, he found a bitter resentment flood through his mind. How could she be so stubborn? How could she punish him for such a small lie? For years he had dreamed of what it would be to have her so close to him, to be residing in his castle only a stone's throw away. But having her here now…she felt more lost to him than she ever did in the Above.
He thought back to the vow he once made to himself, the vow that when he took her, it would be because she would truly mean her wish. It troubled him. At the time of taking her he had pushed the vow away, ignoring it. He told himself that she meant her words; she wanted to save the children, of course she meant it. But he had ignored that it was not right. He wanted her to come with him because she wanted him. And now it was more than obvious that she didn't and never did. He had twisted the truth and seized the opportunity to have her. He had broken his vow…and now he was cursed.
Perhaps her attempts to paint him as some kind of monster were true, was he a fiend hell bent on manipulating and seducing her for his own gain? Jareth didn't think he knew anymore. But still he pondered why that was the only thing she seemed to strive for, all she wanted to do was out him as something repugnant. That was the only way she would be satisfied…it was the only true way he could make her happy. He had tried being kind, he had tried being nice…yet all of it seemed lost on her. It seemed villainy was the only language she could understand from his tongue. He deserved it; it was his own doing he supposed. So as the wine pushed all thoughts of reason away he decided, just for her, that he would give her a monster.
As Sarah stopped outside the large wooden doors, dwarfed by their size and elaborate carvings, she took a shaky breath. She could hear muttered voices inside and the distinct sound of cackling goblins. He was there. She could feel it.
The doors swung open at the slightest touch, their creaking ominous and unwelcome in the night. Flames burned so low that it took a moment for her eyes to adjust in the gloomy room, trying to decipher shapes in the shadows. She swallowed as the outline of a throne became clear. Goblins littered the floor before it, each as stone drunk as the next, groaning and laughing with each other. And amidst it all sat a cool figure at the back of the room, examining them with a sharp gaze.
The moment he saw her his eyes widened, just for a moment, evidently surprised at the surrender of her arrival. But a second later it was replaced with a small smile that seemed entirely forced.
"So the fabled girl decides to grace us with her presence? How delightful." Jareth's voice was low, barely carrying across the throne room to meet her ears. Sarah ignored the quip, stepping over a goblin that had long been dead to the world around it.
"I came to talk to you, Jareth." She said calmly, trying to keep her approach void of the anger she still felt faintly rattling inside her. She could not do it again she thought, the screaming and shouting and harsh words had exhausted her beyond measure. She would not relive it tonight.
"Oh dear. That does sound rather ominous doesn't it?" The goblins around him laughed, and she felt her skin prickle at the noise.
"Can you send them away, please? I don't want to do this in front of an audience."
Jareth cocked his head at her, giving a look torn between bemused and outraged.
"You didn't seem to have as much modesty when you screeched your way across the castle a few nights ago. Everyone could hear you then, just as they are welcome to hear you now." Another titter ran through the crowd.
"Stop it." She hissed, anger blossoming in her chest. But Jareth merely feigned ignorance.
"Stop what?"
"Being like this, sitting there and acting like a child, it's not funny."
"And who's laughing?" For a moment the deadly calm of his voice tore through the air and shook her. In the dim light she eyed the half empty wine glass clutched weakly in his hand, seeing the pieces fall into place.
"You're drunk. I'm not doing this when you're drunk." She waved him away, turning to the doors that she had come through. Behind her he stood, taking a step away from the throne.
"Oh you will do this. I have waited long enough. How long has it been? I count 2 whole days. How excessive."
Sarah didn't even glance over her shoulder, choosing instead to train her eyes on the exit she desperately craved.
"Jareth, you come find me when you've sobered up, okay? Now is not the time."
As she reached the doors they swung shut, the echoing crash of wood and stone tearing a gasp from her. She placed a palm against the door, begging whatever deity was listening to give her strength. When he spoke she found it tugged at the delicate veneer of patience she had taken days to pull together.
"I don't think so. I think I'm tired of running to you. I'm tired of being the one to go crawling back to you like some kind of hound. You've come to me, so forgive me if I'd like to enjoy the moment a little while longer."
Turning away from the door, Sarah pierced him with her gaze, righteous in her fury.
"You think this is a game?"
Jareth laughed low in his throat as he reclaimed his seat, sitting haphazardly.
"I think that's all this has ever been. Don't you?"
The goblins were no longer laughing; instead Sarah thought they looked fearful, eyes wide and glancing to each other in confusion. The game wasn't fun anymore. It had taken a deadly turn for the worse and they could feel it.
Sarah ignored them, taking a few steps towards Jareth and keeping her voice low, wary of the spectators.
"I think you're being difficult. On purpose. And it's really starting to piss me off."
Leaning forwards in his seat, he regarded her with that same smile that did not reach his eyes.
"And we don't want that, do we?"
Slowly but surely, around them the goblins had begun to disappear, none of them wanting to stay and see the fallout of the latest battle. Sarah watched them all leave, the clangs of cups filling the air as they were dropped and abandoned.
Only when they were alone did she speak.
"Fine, you want to do this now then we will. Who was the man who came to see me?" She folded her arms, waiting for his answer. She wouldn't give in to his quips and bitter smiles, she was better than that. She was better than him. Jareth settled back in his chair, lifting a cup to his lips.
"Oh Lukin. Shrivelled old thing isn't he?"
Sarah closed her eyes, breathing deeply.
"Jareth." She warned and he sighed at the tone.
"He's my advisor. Head of the council. Friend of the family. The titles go on." He waved his hand.
"Why did he come to see me?"
"Why do you think? To ward you away. And you fell for it. Gullible little thing aren't you?" He quirked an eyebrow, and all at once Sarah felt laid bare before him. It was strange really, the way he could reduce you to nothing with a few words and a look from those strange eyes of his. Not tonight she repeated in her mind.
"You think I don't know that? But the fact of the matter is that he told the truth. And you lied."
He shrugged, looking wholly disinterested.
"I think that's been established, yes."
She furrowed her brow, willing him to understand. All she asked was for him to be honest with her, yet it seemed like an impossibility for him. How could she trust her life to him in this place if she was being deceived?
"Is that it? Yes?" She repeated his words, her tongue sharp and cutting. But it didn't seem to affect him. In fact he seemed tired by her attitude.
"Sarah, what you seem incapable of understanding is that this...all of this...it's so much bigger than you."
She was struck into silence.
"It's bigger than you. It's bigger than your ability to see your family, it's bigger than you returning to the Above and living your life. It's bigger than whatever is to become of you and I, and that...that is what you don't understand."
Sarah shook her head, biting her lip with enough force to break the skin. She knew what was at stake. Even if her mind still hadn't fully grasped it, she knew. And his insistence that she didn't riled her.
"You didn't have to lie to me. If you want me to understand then you have to tell me the whole truth. Not half truths or fractions of it."
Jareth let his head fall back, closing his eyes for a moment.
"I suppose that was my error."
"I suppose it was."
He lifted his head, once again scrutinising the girl standing before him.
"And your error, Sarah, is thinking that the world revolves around you."
"I don't think-"
"It's not an insult. Every living being believes that their world is a little bubble, where everything is centred on them. It's natural to do so. But in my time as a King...I've had to think differently. Nothing revolves around me. Only my kingdom."
Sarah couldn't help the scoff that tumbled from her mouth, outrage and disbelief flooding through her.
"You don't think of yourself? Is that what you're trying to say?"
Still, he ignored her.
"My needs were never important. Not really. Only that of everyone else's under my rule. And now, the one time I give in to what it is I want, look where it has left me. Everyone believes that I've lost my mind."
"And have you? Lost your mind?" Sarah said softly. In the low light she could almost believe that he was half mad. He sat in his armour, all black leather and metal that sent the paleness of his skin to a realm that lingered on illness. Yet he did not look frail to her in that moment, he looked powerful. And as he surveyed her before his throne, the wine intoxicating his body and twisting his words, Sarah almost remembered why she had been so scared of him so many years ago.
"I'm not sure anymore." Was his whispered reply.
She swallowed hard, running a hand through her hair. He was doing it on purpose, trying her patience to see how far she would go. He wanted a fight and he wanted to fight her. That much was clear.
"You're the most selfish person I've ever met, Jareth. Don't try and play the noble King with me. I know you better than that." Her words were tinged with a strange kind of sadness, Jareth thought. An emotion that almost lingered on disappointment. It unnerved him.
"In this world I am your King. People have been killed for less than that. What you say is akin to blasphemy. I could strike you down with a wave of my hand and no one would argue." He warned. He found he could not stand the steady assassination of his character by the girl, and she was such a small thing at that. Standing in the cavernous room she looked even more so. But she had the uncanny ability to make him feel even smaller.
"Why is it blasphemy? Because you say so?"
"Yes."
She nodded, a smirk lingering on her lips.
"You just can't stand it can you? You can't stand anyone telling you something that you don't want to hear. I'm telling you what you already know and you can't bear it."
Jareth heard a low crack as he gripped his glass just a little too hard. How dare she. How dare she look upon her King and cut him with her words. After all he had done for her, tearing through old alliances and factions to make her Queen. She was supposed to be his saviour. The world's saviour. But she needed to know her place.
He raised a gloved hand to her, signalling for her silence as she went to speak once more.
"I'll make you a deal. If you kneel before me, and praise your King, swear your unwavering loyalty and love to me...You may see your family."
It was funny to him almost, to watch the array of emotions cross her face. Surprise was replaced with rage, rage was replaced with disappointment. And soon all that was left on her face was sadness. That same sadness that made him so uncomfortable.
"Why?" Her voice was quiet, almost broken by the request. Jareth furrowed his brow, unwilling to be moved by her pain.
"It's simple Sarah, would it truly hurt you to do so?"
She looked at him, his tongue toying with one of his sharp canines and truly considered it. What was another humiliation between them if she could see her family? But no. It was more than that. It was about him owning her, and her complying willingly to being owned. This request to assert his dominance was a battle they'd been fighting for a long time. And she wouldn't give in, not to him and not to anyone. Not tonight.
"I'd rather rot." She hissed, watching his face darken.
"So be it."
"Why are you like this? What happened to you to make you such an awful person?"
"What happened to me?" He laughed incredulously.
"Oh, sweet thing. I think he things that have happened to me over this long life...oh it'd make your hair curl."
Sarah sniffed, clutching her arms around her for some form of comfort.
"Perhaps. Probably. But what have I done to deserve this? To deserve all of this...contempt. Can you honestly hate me that much?"
There was a small moment, amidst the chaos in that second, when their eyes met. His eyes had always enchanted her, the duality serving as one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. But they could be terrifying; horrendous even when the other pupil dilated to match it's brother. That was when his eyes seemed overcome with darkness. And lurking in them was that indescribable emotion she had sometimes seen, a surprise moment of truth amidst all the lies.
The tenderness in them shook her.
"On Sarah." He turned his gaze to the bottom of his glass, a forlorn expression gracing his face. For a moment the wine had made him loose lipped, forgetting his resolve to give her the type of man she wanted him to see. For once he would give her the truth.
"I tried you know. To hate you. Gods, I sat in this same throne. With the same barrel of wine. And the same thought. I hate her. But alas, I found I could not."
She almost dared not ask but her tongue was too quick for her mind.
"And why not?"
He refused to look at her still, merely stroking his wine glass, deep in thought it seemed.
"The Labyrinth. The Labyrinth you so readily bested. It is everything I am. I made it out of my own soul, I sometimes think the truth of me is written across every wall and lurks around every corner of it. And it has scared people, as I would expect it to I suppose. It has reduced people to tears, anger, frustration. But you…not you. You smiled when you started your journey. And somehow you found the good in it...you enjoyed it. Of course I'm sure you were scared, frustrated and all the things the others were. But you came away thinking it was the most wonderful thing you'd ever known. You see, Sarah, you saw the heart of me and thought it good. How could I ever hate the one girl who knows me best?"
Sarah found herself speechless, gazing at him with wide eyes. At some point her heart had begun to rattle within her ribs. Pounding furiously as if looking for a way of escape. His honesty was always something that rendered her this way. It was always unexpected and almost, dare she say it, even touching. And once more she thought back to Hoggle's words. When the King drinks he talks too much. It seemed that it truly was no exaggeration.
"You know me so well. And what's more, I think you like me. For all your shouting and screaming...I think you need me."
"I don't need anyone." She whispered, turning away from him, her eyes lingering on the doors. She couldn't deal with the emotions the alcohol was bringing to the surface of him, not when she knew how deep hers had been buried.
"I think we need each other."
"Jareth." She warned quietly.
"God forbid Sarah Williams should be inconvenienced. You will stand here and for once in your life you will listen to me." In a moment his tone had changed from gentle and beseeching to unforgiving and furious. Her head snapped back to him, alarmed at the transformation. It was almost remarkable how quickly he could lose his temper. And it only served as a reminder as to just what kind of man he was.
"We do. We give each other the greatest gift there is. An equal. And you Sarah, are the only equal I've ever known." His breath was laboured, exhausted by the strain of her. The defiant look she gave him, chin up and eyes narrowed, infuriated him. She didn't want the truth. She wanted a villain.
"You think we were destined to be together? You think we're the same?" She cried out incredulously, throwing her hands into the air in exasperation. Jareth threw his cup over his shoulder, not looking as it smashed into a thousand pieces.
"Aren't we?"
"No!" Her voice seemed to echo around the room, the answer bouncing off of the stone walls and back to him again and again and again. No, no, no. No. He was tired of that word. Standing from his throne he took a step closer, satisfied when she didn't flinch away this time.
"Really? I suggest you think about that a little bit more."
"I'm sorry, Jareth. I feel sorry for you. But we're not the same. We won't ever be the same. And this will never work. Not the way you want."
"You don't want me?"
"No."
There was that word again. No. And what's more it was a lie. A lie they were both aware of. Sarah eyed him warily, watching him get closer and closer, trying not to shrink away. She wouldn't be scared of him, she wouldn't show she was afraid.
"Truly? I see you looking at me Sarah. Even more so then you did back then."
Swallowing hard, her heart seemed willing to burst through her chest to escape the onslaught. But still she did not move.
"You've never known what it's like to have another warm your bed or taste your flesh. And you certainly don't know how well I could do it. But you imagine it don't you?" His voice was almost smug as he watched the blush rise in her cheeks. She couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or anger.
"Stop it."
A smile was creeping onto his face, betraying the lecherous thoughts that ran through his head. It made her shudder to think just what he was capable of. He stopped before her, so close that she could count the flecks of gold lost in the blue of his eyes. So close to see each individual hue of the strange markings that adorned his face.
"I watched you, remember? All those years I spent watching over you, making sure you were well. Do you not think I saw you?"
"Saw what?"
Jareth smirked, waiting. And in a moment the penny dropped. A sense of abject horror befell her, the heat rising in her cheeks until it was almost unbearable. And for the first time in a long time, she was speechless.
"Ah, the wordsmith has no words? What a pity. But I remember one time, one glorious time, when just as you reached bliss, one word fell from your lips. Do you remember what that word was?"
She did. The one time she had let herself dream of him, the one time she had let herself imagine what it would have been like. In the throes of her passion she had said his name. Jareth.
And the way he looked at her now, knowing her in a way that no one else had, it felt worse than his lies. She felt invaded, almost naked before him. And she could see that he was rejoicing in the memory, replaying it to himself again and again.
"I'm asking you. Don't do this. Don't make things worse." She whispered, her cheeks burning with the humiliation of it all. For a moment he looked at her, sadness and defeat written across his face.
"How could things possibly be any worse between us? What's another broken glass amongst the wreckage?"
"Stop it."
"It's all I have. That whispered word in the darkness of your room...that is the one sweet thing I have in my life. And Gods, I nearly joined you that night. And I bet it would have been so easy. I bet you would've welcomed me with open arms-"
"Don't you dare talk to me!" Sarah roared at him, pointing a shaking finger at the man who gave it no more than a cursory glance.
"We don't have to talk." He laughed, almost mocking, and as he exhaled she could smell the strength of the wine he had been indulging in.
"I will never touch you." She whispered, horrified at the turn of events. How had she come to make amends and found herself worse off then before? How did they always end up like this?
"But you will. Our wedding night looms closer and closer. Then you will know what it is to be completely and utterly ravaged."
"You'll have to force me then."
A true smile crossed his face then, mocking and self satisfied.
"True. If I wanted to it would be so very easy. But I don't think I'll have to. I'm sure you'll act like you don't want it at first. And after you'll call me all manner of despicable things. But in that moment, when I'm inside you, you'll want nothing more."
He closed his eyes, lost in the nightmare.
"You disgust me." She spat, averting her gaze. He closed the distance between them, gripping her chin and pulling her closer.
"If I kissed you right now you would beg me."
"You can keep dreaming about it, Jareth."
"Oh I will. Just as you do I suspect."
His eyes lingered on her lips before trailing downward, settling on the way her dress clung to her hips. A look of almost rapture crossed his face at the sight.
"I wonder what it would feel like, to know what it would be like to have you in my arms, begging for more."
Wrenching herself from his grasp, she took a shaky step away, scowling and shaking her head.
"You'll never know what it feels like."
"I'm a gambling man. Would you care to hedge a bet?"
"I would bet my life on it."
He tutted, reaching over and pressing a finger to her lips.
"You wouldn't want to do that Sarah. I might just take you up on it."
Once more she felt her heart break. This was a new low for him, she thought he was lecherous and intent on having her, but she never so thought he would be so depraved.
"You're sick." She whispered, almost pitying the man before her. He nodded, his brow furrowing.
"You're right. And this sickness... you're the cause. And yet strangely...also the solution. I have you here now, and I don't think I'll ever let you go."
Sarah closed her eyes, tired of the emotions wreaking havoc against her heart.
"Please open the door." She whispered.
"And why would I-"
"Open it!" She all but screeched, and Jareth did no more than raise one lazy eyebrow.
"Well, as my darling bride to be commands."
The door swung open slowly, infuriatingly so, and Sarah left with her heart cradled in her hands.
She paced her room, boots thudding loudly against the stone floor, her heart echoing in her ears. He was a tyrant. He was selfish. He was a pervert. He did not deserve his title or his crown and he did not deserve her.
As she had entered her room she spied her own crystal decanter that had remained untouched in her time in this world, and for a moment thought it was the most glorious thing she had ever seen. With a shaking hand she poured herself a glass of the viscous liquid, downing it in one and almost gagging at the taste. But she liked the way it clouded her mind and fogged her senses. For a second she wondered if this was why Jareth drank so much. Maybe it was because he wanted to forget. But all at once the memory of his words came crashing down on her, driving her to wear the heels of her boots down against the floor as she paced.
Why had he done that to her? Why would he say such awful things? Was it because he was drunk or because that was who he was, nothing more than a monster? She could feel the sting of tears in her eyes and sniffed hard. He didn't deserve her tears, and he would never see her cry again. That was a promise. It seemed that all of her teenage fantasies and youthful idealisms about him had been laid to waste. It felt like something inside of her had shattered, leaving nothing but daggers cutting into the flesh and reminding her with every movement of what she had lost. She wanted to leave, she wanted to run away, but he would never let her. He had said it so calmly, and she believed it wholly. But she needed a way out, something that would force him to free her. But what?
As the night wore on a dangerous thought entered her mind. He wanted her. Quite obviously. But he couldn't have her, not yet. Not if he wanted to keep her 'pure' for their wedding night. But what if she could turn the tables on him, what if she could manipulate him for once? What if she could seduce him, suffer the touch of him just this one time and make him take her? Then he couldn't marry her and he would have to let her go. All of his plans would amount to nothing. And who else could he blame but himself? He would be his own downfall; overcome by his own selfishness and greed by the want of her...he would never forgive himself.
And wouldn't that be the ultimate manipulation? Sarah almost thought that he would be proud.
As the hours ticked on and the candles finally extinguished themselves, Jareth sat in his throne much as he had done since Sarah had left. He pressed a hand against his face, tapping his leg with a riding crop, punishing himself for all that he had done. He just couldn't help himself could he? He was sure it was her, that she had some kind of power of him. With no more than a few words and a harsh gaze she could drive him to the edge of the abyss and push him over with a wry smile. But what had he done? He had gone too far. He knew it.
As he felt the intoxication of the wine lifting, a sense of dread slowly dawned upon him as he saw the events that had transpired in another light. He had promised that he would never harm nor humiliate her...but he had. With his words he had struck her down again and again. He had become the monster she had so callously painted him as and he had done it so easily, just as he intended. He didn't think his heart would ever let him forget it.
But she had come to him, by the Gods she had tried to repair the damage that he had done. He was a fool. An old embittered fool who didn't deserve something as glorious and good as that girl. How could he ever expect her to want him if that was the type of man she thought him to be? Perhaps Lukin was right. Perhaps he was cruel.
With a heavy sigh he stood. He wanted to talk to her, to apologise. It would not make things better but it was a step in the right direction. He would prove to her that he was a better man than the one she had seen so far. He would vow it beneath the heavens if that were what it took. And this time he would not break it.