Chapter Nine: Reality is a Prison?

Sarah yawned and stretched finding her limbs stiff and slow to respond. She blinked several times as the hazy sight that had greeted her eyes was vaguely familiar.

In the next moment, flooded with realisation, she was wide awake.

She sat up, her head instantly throbbing with pain and causing a wave of dizziness to nearly overcome her. She was in the room she'd spent the night in months ago in Harrows Lane. The night Jareth had soothed her hurts and massaged her feet after Travis had attacked her with a knife.

Fury at Jareth overwhelmed her vertigo and she threw off the blanket and stormed to the door to find her Goblin King shaped kidnapper. But much like the morning after she had fucked him, the doorknob wouldn't turn.

It was then she wished she had some control over her magic as she banged the door calling out his name. When that didn't work, she started calling out to Ismaila for help.

When no one came, she turned her attention to the window. The street was dark but it was clear to see it was devoid of any people; there were no headlights and the lights from the houses were either off or behind closed curtains. When she tried the window, it was as magically locked as the door.

But glass could smash a lot easier than a solid wooden door. And she was no stranger to smashing through glass—or crystal. Sarah looked around and found the perfect chair for the job. Holding it by two of its legs, she raised it over her shoulder and threw it with all her strength at the glass.

She had been standing at a safe distance to avoid getting glass shards raining on her but it made no difference as the chair merely bounced off the window and landed with a dull thud on the floor at her feet.

Sarah stared at the unbroken glass and felt her resolve crumble. She took a deep breath and then turned to the dresser to see what tools existed in the drawers. Coming up empty handed, she moved onto the bedside cabinets and then the wardrobe.

Nothing existed of use in the room. Nor in the ensuite attached to the bedroom. And the window in there remained stubbornly break-proof too. Not to be defeated, she made another round of the room in case she missed something and when that too resulted in nothing she sat heavily on the edge of the bed.

Jareth had won. He'd kidnapped her and locked her up in this house that no one would find her in. To everyone one else on the planet, this house was decaying and abandoned. It had a reputation of being haunted but not interesting enough to draw the attention of paranormal weirdos or ghost hunters.

No one would find her here in a hurry— it had been 1974 the last time someone had successfully broken in. And that was Sarah alongside Travis and Jake. And Jareth was technically not breaking any of his world's laws by holding her hostage here. He hadn't taken her Underground after all. Though he was technically interfering with her life.

She let out an impatient scream at her stupidity and kicked the leg of the bed with frustration for ever letting herself fall victim to his guile.

Jareth probably invoked some sex magic that made her develop feelings for him and let herself get kidnapped by him. She never should have kissed him. She should never have let herself get turned on by the way he had rubbed his cock as he crouched in front of her.

Regretting everything, including kicking her toes, she paced the room, muttering to herself and waving her hands around.

Every now and then she'd call out to Jareth or Ismailia with no success. The house sounded deserted. The street remained quiet. Her banging on the door sounded hollow and muffled. Unless someone was standing on the other side of the door, no one would hear her.

It felt like hours but could have been days that had passed when she saw her father standing on the footpath leading to the front door. It briefly, crossed her mind that she hadn't needed to drink, eat, or use the toilet the entire time she had been trapped in the room.

But now her father was here, and he would help her. Somehow. She didn't want to think too hard about how he would break the enchantments keeping her trapped, nor what Jareth would do when he discovered her father trying to rescue her.

She banged the glass with her fist and called out. With the speed of what felt like molasses, her dad finally looked up. Tears she had spent hours crying leaked afresh down her cheeks.

He'd seen her. He rushed towards the front door and she felt relief.

Right up until she saw Travis in the street. She couldn't hear him but could tell Travis was yelling something at her father. Moments passed but inexplicably, Travis left.

She called out for her dad once more as she heard him moving around downstairs. But her eyes caught a blackbird watching her from the closest tree. It cocked its head and then took off after Travis.

Sarah didn't know why it had caught her attention. A common blackbird was nothing to be suspicious about. But it was rather odd to see one at night. And for it to be watching her. And they weren't known for their intelligence. She wondered if Jareth could change form to anything other than a barn owl.

Turning away from the window she watched the door with her heart banging wildly in hope of her rescue.

When the door did open it was to nothing. Sarah swallowed as she stared at the vacant hallway.

Thinking quickly, she grabbed the chair from earlier and smashed it against the bed frame until the wood splintered. Grabbing a leg, she edged her way closer to the open door.

"What the fuck are you—?" Robert started and then looked Jareth up and down. "Who the fuck are you?"

Jareth wasn't listening. He watched as a chair spontaneously shattered against the bed and a leg vanished from view. He folded his arms and stared at the pile of splintered wood and torn upholstery before looking at the same spot in the unglamoured aspect. Unsurprisingly, the chair remained whole by the dresser where it lived.

"Jamie?" Robert asked uncertainly.

Jareth sighed. "The name is Jareth. And I am trying to find your daughter before you accuse me of stealing her from you."

"Where is she?" he asked, harshly. "And why are you dressed like that statue of hers she was half in love with as a teenager?"

Jareth would usually have smirked at that comment, but he had more pressing issues.

"Robert, your daughter is in this room with us but in a different layer of reality."

"First Mr Haverstock and now you," he muttered. "Is every man in Sarah's life a drug addled maniac?"

"While I don't pretend to never have been addled, Robert, your daughter is here." Jareth watched as Robert picked up a brick from the floor. He sighed dramatically, knowing what was about to happen.

Sarah's father lobbed the brick directly at Jareth's temple and dissolved instantly into dust upon impact. Given the brick was not actually real Jareth didn't even flinch.

Robert stepped back, clearly aghast at the way it disappeared without a trace.

"Magic," Jareth muttered, producing a crystal. "I could get into a lot of trouble for showing a mortal this, but time is of the essence. Sarah is trapped in an alternate reality. Between the layers of magic, I have put on this house. But it was not my doing. It is not my magic that has her trapped."

He tapped his lip with a finger as Robert started to protest.

"My cousin, Diddershins Gly, has always fancied my throne," Jareth explained. "And he thinks that by stealing my br—Sarah—that I would—" He had almost said bride, which was presumptuous and not going to endear him to a murderous father right now. But his brain had caught up with his words and he trailed off as he considered what he was really saying.

Jareth had been too deep in his drinks of late to really think about this whole scheme. Yes, marrying Sarah would hurt Jareth but fae rarely understood heartbreak. And they certainly wouldn't risk breaking a rule to kidnap a mortal that held no political power unless love was involved.

Like his mother had kidnapped his father. But there had to be more to this than an attempt to hurt him. How would Gly succeed in ousting him from his kingdom by marrying his queen?

Robert's mouth hanging open and deep frown brought him back to the task at hand.

"I am a king, Robert," Jareth said to the stunned man. "I care for your daughter, and I swear on my throne and all my subjects that I have not taken her against her will. But someone has. And is trying to set me up for the blame."

He tapped his chin and started pacing. He really needed to think. Tearing through the layers of magic wouldn't be an option—any entry to where she was hidden would be strongly warded against him. But he had to do something.

"A king?" Robert asked, bracing himself against the doorframe. "A magical king?"

"Yes, keep up," he snapped impatiently, but then recovered. "I imagine it is quite the shock for you but when Sarah is safe, then I will explain everything."

"You really expect me to believe—"

"Yes."

Jareth clicked his fingers and a goblin appeared, hovering by his boot. Robert paled and stuttered as he stared at Pew.

"Pew," Jareth instructed. "Tell Hoggle that Sarah is stuck between realities and that I may be delayed in returning to the castle. The goblin nodded and vanished with a pop.

"What…was that?" Robert asked, pointing a shaking finger at the spot where Pew had been moments before.

"A goblin and one of my subjects," Jareth replied, straightening his gloves. He threw a crystal at the crumped remains of the chair on the ground, expecting it would bounce off and be ineffectual. What he didn't expect was Robert to disappear and to see Sarah standing in the doorway, with her back to him and the broken chair leg raised above her head as she peered around the corner.

Sarah spun around to see the Goblin King standing behind her. She was sure there was a fleeting look of surprise on his pale face before it vanished into his customary lazy smirk.

Rage boiled up inside her and without thinking she spun on her heel and launched herself at Jareth with the chair leg in her hand. He effortlessly sidestepped her weapon and had the audacity to chuckle as she landed, took a deep breath, and attempted to swipe at him again.

This time he didn't move, but when the wood was supposed to make contact, it simply passed through, coming to a stop only when it hit the rug under his feet. She stepped back, the wood now shaking slightly in her hand as he stood there leering at her. Whatever trick he had used in that Escher room, he was employing now.

"How dare you?" she hissed. "How dare you stand there as…detached as you are after everything you have done."

"And what is it that I have supposedly done?" Jareth asked, taking one step forward.

"Kidnapped me, tricked me…fucked me," she replied. "Not in that order."

"Yes," he replied, coolly. "You are being led to believe that it was me, and I see you have fallen for it, hook, line and sinker."

"Who else would lock me in here?" she asked. 'Your mother?"

"Look around, Sarah," he said, enunciating her name slowly and deliberately. "Look for signs that it wasn't me. And don't trust anyone. I will figure out how to save you."

"Save me?" she asked. "I am just going to walk out that door and—"

"If only it was that easy," Jareth replied, leaning closer so his nose almost touched hers. It was then that he closed the distance and instead of feeling his skin on hers, she felt nothing. Nothing at all.

"How come I am not feeling anything?" she asked, looking into his eyes that were so very close.

"Because I am not really here, Sarah." His free hand was cupping her cheek now, but there was no sensation. "I can only touch what exists in both realities."

"Both realities?" she asked confusion making her rage cool to a simmer. "Jareth? Where am I?"

"Just remember, not to trust—"

And then she was staring into empty space.

Sarah swallowed before turning back to the open door. He had asked her to look for clues that he wasn't her kidnapper, but the open door was too much of a lure.

"Where the fuck did you just vanish too?" Robert shouted. He was now inside the room as Jareth reappeared in the correct reality. He knew the moment he arrived; it would only be a fleeting visit. Every fibre of his being rebelled at being in that prison cell and so he could only project himself there.

He ignored him and started pacing once more. He had been there barely seconds, but it was enough to know that it was nothing more than a prison cell. A rather clever bubble of time and space that someone who wasn't Diddershins was able to construct.

He wasn't clever enough to create a prison Aboveground.

But he knew exactly who would be. And his insides turned to lava as he connected all the missing pieces. Something about this entire plot never made sense. Yes, Gly wanted his throne, but he was two brandy glasses short of a casket…or whatever that mortal saying was. He could never cobble together a plan when anything he ever did was ham-fisted at best.

Icca Debe on the other hand was the only fae he had ever told about his parents, and then decades later, Gly was taking credit for Ismaila's expulsion. And for Icca, who had been obsessed with him for centuries, it would only make sense that he wanted Sarah married to Diddershins so he would be free for Icca to swoop in on.

"The vulture!" Jareth exclaimed out loud.

"Pardon?" Robert asked, his reflecting his offence in the slight purple tinge to his skin.

"To answer, your question, I was briefly with Sarah," he replied. "She is angry, but unharmed and I hope for her to remain thus. But I need to speak to my previous paramour who has, no doubt, orchestrated this entire plot to get his own way."

"He?"

"Yes," Jareth replied, giving the man a frown who shrugged and tucked his hands under his elbows. "His name is Icca Debe and he has been pining for me for centuries. I briefly gave into him advances, only to find them stifling. But it seems that he has constructed a devious scheme to trap Sarah underground and soon to be married to my most hated cousin, while escaping any of the blame."

"My daughter is trapped because of an ex-lover of yours?" Robert spat. "So, you are still very much to blame."

"In a tangential way," Jareth replied, shrugging. He was not accustomed to acknowledging his blame, but right now, his thoughts were on Sarah and if it quelled one angry man's murderous desires to end his life, then he would accept all the blame.

"How are you going to get my daughter back?" he asked.

"I will speak to Icca now," he said, producing a crystal. "Meanwhile, you will take this crystal, press it to your temple, then you will find the house in its natural state and downstairs you will find my mother, asleep in an armchair, having dozed off after a riveting game of solitaire."

Jareth expected him to protest. But he was more trusting than his daughter, even if he had less imagination than her and less belief in magic. Robert took the crystal with shaky hands and pressed it to his temple firmly. The man blinked several times and then looked around.

"Well, this is certainly more habitable."

Jareth chuckled and then indicated that he should leave to find his mother. He hastily returned Underground to find his erstwhile lover.

Sarah approached the open door and heaving a sigh, stepped into the corridor. Both ways were clear. Electricity worked in whatever reality Jareth was claiming this was as the lights twinkled the entire length of the hallway. She took the left towards the main stairs back down to the ground floor.

But the moment she tried to take the first stair, there was a figure moving upwards towards her. A man that wasn't Jareth but had a similar aura and look about him. Except where Jareth was fair, this person was dark. He had deeply captivating eyes that twinkled slightly at the sight of her. She felt her breath leave her chest at the sight of such exquisite beauty.

"So, you must be the mortal that my cousin has been so obsessed about," he said, bowing low to her as he stopped on the landing. His voice was deeper, silkier, and more captivating than Jareth's. "At last, we meet."

He gave her a crooked smile, which held Sarah mute. She had never seen such beauty before. Jareth had been her baseline for masculine beauty, but he paled compared to this dark stranger. His scent was coffee and chocolate-dark, decadent, and forbidden.

"When I learnt that my dear cousin held you prisoner here, I had to release you myself," he said, placing one arm behind his back and the other across his chest. "I am here to serve you, my Lady."

"Then you will open the front door and let me pass, unimpeded," she said, her voice catching but holding strong, even in the face of such alluring elegance.

"I am afraid I can not allow that," he said, looking down at his feet. "I can not take you from this house of my cousin's, into the mortal world. This house—" He gestured widely with his arms. "—Acts like a gateway between realms, but I can not transport you across the mortal threshold."

Sarah bit her lip. She didn't like the sound of that, but the more she thought about it, she couldn't think why she didn't like the sound of it.

"Your only choices are between safety and danger, my Lady." He peered at her again with that unending gaze. "And Jareth has already taken you into dangers untold before, has he not?"

Something nagged at her mind at his words, but she shoved a pillow over the thought and held down until it stopped wriggling in her mind. This man was charm itself and safety and comfort washed over her in his presence. Jareth was dangerous. And he had lied to her. He had fucked her and then kidnapped her. And then he tried to trick her into believing it hadn't been him.

But this fae was right! Jareth was obsessed.

"A little birdy told me that you design houses," he said, apropos of nothing. "An architect. I heard you were also inspired by my cousin's little brick and bog puzzle."

She nodded as she registered a pang in her heart as she thought of her house and how she had signed seniority over to Peter. How she wished she hadn't. But it was too late to do anything about it now.

"Let me show you some of my world's architecture," he said, with that crooked smile that sent heat to her loins and had her heart thumping against her ribs. "You would get inspired by that more than his grim little maze. And then think of the awards you would win and how high you would rise in the ranks."

Sarah felt her mouth go dry at the thought. Her dreams…he was handing over her dreams. Her adult dreams—not the pubescent, nascent dreams Jareth had teased her with, but her adult dreams. She looked into those dark eyes, and she believed him.

Jareth didn't have time to look for his wayward former lover. He arrived back to his castle to an uproar.

"HOGGLE!" he yelled upon seeing the dwarf stomping around his throne room amidst the chaos that was a goblin riot. Narrowly avoiding flying chicken shit, he stepped up to the dwarf, grabbed him by the shirt, and hoisted him off his feet. "What the fuck is this noise?"

"Sarah," he panted. "A messenger came minutes ago. Your invitation to her wedding. Tonight!"

Jareth dropped Hoggle with little regard to his plight as he hit the cold concrete floor.

A trembling goblin held up the black envelope with the brown seal and he knew that Hoggle was right. He snatched the invitation and ripped it open as the chaos continued to reign around his ankles.

"Pew," he called. "Tell my mother and Sarah's father that Sarah is about to be married. Tell them that I will stop the wedding and save Sarah. In any way I can."