Jareth stood at the edge of the dance floor, his gaze gliding calmly over the crowd. In truth, he was seething. With every moment that passed without Sarah appearing, the emptiness in his heart grew.
He took a deep breath and stepped into the crowd of dancers. The guests surrounded him like a wave – especially the women. They smiled at him, bowed a little coquettishly or lightly touched his arm to ask him to dance.
'My lord, will you grant me this dance?' a blonde Fae whispered, her eyes glowing like liquid gold.
'Jareth, you are as splendid as ever. Please, dance with me!' cried a witch with ruby-red hair, her voice like velvet.
Jareth smiled politely, but his answers were always the same: 'Maybe later.' Or: 'Sorry, I'm on my way.'
Hands reached out for him, trying to stop him, but he skilfully sidestepped them, pushing his way through the crowd with a grace that could not deny his royal origins. But his gaze remained restless. Something drove him forward, a feeling that could not be shaken off.
Suddenly he froze. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a movement. A glimmer of white, a tail of long brown hair that was all too familiar to him. He turned round – and his world held its breath.
In the centre of the dance floor, surrounded by the spinning and twirling couples, stood Sarah.
The white dress clung to her silhouette like a second skin. The music, the conversations, the laughter of those present - everything seemed to blur around her. Her gaze was focussed on Jareth, who acted like a magnet in the crowd. Women surrounded him, asked him to dance, put their hands on his arms and shoulders. But he barely seemed to notice their advances, skilfully avoiding them without losing his elegance.
And then, as if he had sensed her gaze, he turned to her. Their eyes met. Indescribable chaos erupted inside Sarah. She didn't want to be here - or did she? Her heart was beating faster, but she wasn't sure whether it was out of excitement, fear or something in between.
Her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders and her simple but immaculate white dress shimmered in the light of the chandeliers. Her green eyes were wide open and she looked at him - only him.
For a moment, Jareth forgot how to breathe. Chaos raged inside him: longing, joy, insecurity and fear mixed into a storm that he could barely control. And yet... there she was. Here. With him.
'Why am I here?' Sarah asked herself again. Debbie had almost forced her to accept this invitation, had persuaded her to get dressed up and had forced this white dress on her. 'We have to go, Sarah. Maybe HE sent this invitation. Maybe he regrets something.'
But what could he regret? Jareth, the goblin king who had once lured her into a labyrinth full of illusions and dangers. The one who wanted to manipulate her, to stop her from saving Toby with his tricks and games.
The thought of it triggered a wave of scepticism in her. The memory of the ballroom in her dream – how he had wooed her back then, how he had driven her into a frenzy that had almost caused her to abandon her mission. How he had mesmerised her with his promises, his elegance, his undeniable attraction. 'Nothing is as it seems,' she had reminded herself again and again back then, and yet it had not been easy for her to resist him. How could she trust him now?
And yet... he looked at her with those penetrating eyes that seemed to say so much more than words ever could. His gaze held hers, as if he was looking through her mask, looking deep inside her.
His gaze was like a magnet. Her heart began to beat faster and she didn't know why. Everything about him was exactly the same – and yet different. He seemed less intimidating, almost... Vulnerable.
And then he moved. He made his way through the crowd, which flowed around him like honey. Sarah's heart began to beat faster. Part of her wanted to run away, another part couldn't take her eyes off him.
Jareth regained a spark of his old confidence and irresistible charm. Slowly and without taking his eyes off her, he walked towards her. The crowd parted as if guided by an invisible hand, and for a moment the music seemed to play only for the two of them.
He stopped in front of her, just a few steps away. Their eyes met and for both of them the world seemed to stand still.
'What does he want?' thought Sarah. Her legs became heavy and yet she stood there rooted to the spot. She remembered the words he had thrown at her back then: 'I ask for so little, let me guide you. You can have anything, anything you want.' She hadn't trusted him. How could she? And now... Should she trust him?
Jareth came closer and closer, step by step, one hand in the pocket of his blue jacket, which looked very familiar to her. His gaze was fixed unwaveringly on her, but there was something in his eyes that confused her. It wasn't arrogance, it wasn't triumph. It was... Longing?
'Sarah,' he finally said, his voice low and soft, full of feelings he could barely put into words. He spoke softly, but his voice penetrated the surroundings as if it was meant only for Sarah. The world around her blurred, and all she could hear was her own heartbeat mingling with the rhythm of the music.
'Jareth,' she whispered back, her voice uncertain and full of curiosity, a faint flicker of her inner conflicts.
He held out his hand to her, a slight smile on his lips. 'Dance with me.' His voice was a mixture of invitation and request, and yet she hesitated.
''No,' she thought, 'I can't let him wrap me up again. But her body seemed to have a mind of its own. Her hand lifted, and before she knew it, her hand was in his. His fingers closed gently around hers and at that moment she no longer knew what to think. With one elegant movement, he gently pulled her into a dance, his movements smooth, sure, like an experienced guide leading her through the first steps.
Sarah tried to organise her thoughts, but it was as if the dance enveloped her senses and everything else faded into the background. Her scepticism, her doubts – they disappeared in the frenzy of movement. Why had she accepted his invitation? Why hadn't she just stayed at home?
The dance... was more than just movement. It was a game – a game in which he was in control, but she felt that she could always elude him. Their steps matched each other as if they had never done anything else. His hands held her securely and his gaze was captivating.
For Jareth, this was more than just a dance. It was a moment he had waited years for. Everything around him faded as he clung to her scent, the warmth of her closeness and the depth of her eyes.
'I've been looking for you, Sarah,' Jareth said softly, his voice low and insistent.
'Why?' Her voice trembled, and she forced herself to look him in the eye.
'Because I've missed you immensely. And I feel like I owe you something.'
'Owe me something? Or are you trying to manipulate me again?' Sarah asked sceptically.
He paused, his steps slowed, but he didn't let go of her. 'I would never manipulate you again, Sarah. Not after everything that's happened. I've... learnt.'
Sarah didn't know if she could believe him. His words sounded honest, but his past spoke a different language. And yet there was this attraction that she couldn't ignore, that made her want to be near him even when her mind warned her not to.
'Why now, Jareth?' She tugged lightly on his hand, but he held it gently.
'Because I've waited too long.' His gaze was intense, and in that moment, the world around them seemed to stand still.
Sarah didn't know whether to believe him. But for that moment... maybe she wanted to try.
It was strange. She was very sceptical about him, but nevertheless she was overwhelmed. She didn't know why she had let him lead her so easily, but in his arms she felt... safe. And for a moment, she let go of her doubts and surrendered to the dance.
The ballroom transformed around her, reality blurred. It felt like a dream – a dream that was exciting and terrifying at the same time.
But in the midst of it all, their eyes met and nothing was more important than this moment.
