The Enticement

Disclaimer: The characters and settings depicted on this story are the legal property of The Jim Henson Company. They have been used without permission and no copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made off this story, and it was created for fan appreciation and entertainment purposes only.


~*~*~*~*~

She shivered as she remembered his soft voice describing the things he'd wanted to do with her. Just last night she had wondered if he might care for her and tonight he had described making love with her.

But at that thought, her mind stumbled and a sick feeling suddenly gathering in her stomach. Jareth had never said that he cared for her - not last night, not a few minutes ago. There had been no mention of any emotion. All he had spoken of was physical gratification.

Lust.

So that was it.

His Majesty had so many "acquaintances" that he probably slept with a different woman every night. And now he was trapped here alone with her. She was his only alternative and he'd obviously decided to make the best of it.

Well, why wouldn't he? Sarah thought bitterly. He'd recognized that she was attracted to him. She'd been foolish to think that she had ever hidden it from him at all. He probably thought it would take very little effort to get her into bed, and Sarah knew that if she was completely honest, he'd been right. If that timer hadn't gone off, she had no doubt that she would have leaned forward and kissed Jareth. And it wouldn't have stopped at a kiss.

She'd almost given in; she'd almost ended up back in the Underground simply because Jareth wanted to have sex and had turned his attention to her because there wasn't anyone better available.

The worst of it though - the very worst of it - was the amount of pain that insight caused her. She blinked back tears as she realized that she'd wanted Jareth to care for her.

But he didn't.

'Tell the whole truth,' her mind mocked. 'You didn't just want him to care about you. You wanted him to care about you as much as you...'

"Shut up," Sarah whispered viciously. "Just shut up."

Sarah lowered her head to her knees and rocked silently back and forth, trying to ignore the tears that slipped slowly down her face.

~*~*~*~*~

After Sarah left the room, Jareth had read for a bit, trying to take his mind off what had transpired earlier that evening. Finally, he tossed the book aside in irritation.

Why had Sarah resisted him? Why was she refusing to admit the obvious? She'd wanted him and yet she had chosen to deny them both. Her behavior was completely beyond his comprehension. He had once again offered her dreams and once again she had thrown them it back in his face.

The only logical explanation was that he had been mistaken. He had made the assumption that Sarah's dreams would be the same as the women he was accustomed to knowing - libidinous adventures generously interspersed with extravagant presents. However, Sarah was different from those women in so many ways. Perhaps her dreams were different, too.

But she had almost surrendered, he reflected thoughtfully. She had been so very close...

He sighed to himself.

You will bring her to us when you have--

"What?" Jareth whispered, frustrated. "What is it you want me to do?"

He could not stay in this world forever, he needed to return to his home, to his duties and to his life.

He had to discover Sarah's dreams. He had observed her for days; the clues were there. He simply needed to put them into a logical order.

~*~*~*~*~

After she'd stopped crying, Sarah sat in the dark for hours, turning the events of the past few days over and over in her mind. How was she supposed to face Jareth in the morning? The more she thought about that, the angrier she became. Jareth was the one who should be sitting up worrying about how he was going to face her. He was the one who'd tried to use her.

She jumped up and opened her bedroom door, stepping into the living room even as that small voice in her mind tried to call her back, to warn her that there was something she hadn't completely thought out.

The lights were turned off, leaving the living room illuminated only by the low-burning fireplace. Jareth had gone to bed and seemed to be asleep.

Sarah turned on the lamp. "Wake up," she said, her voice flat. "I want to talk to you."

"I am awake," Jareth answered softly. He sat up, the sheet and quilt sliding down to pool at his waist. He smiled slowly at her. "Did you change your mind?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Sarah snapped. "I just want to get a few things straight. Contrary to what you seem to think, I am not one of your acquaintances and I don't appreciate being treated like one. Don't ever do that to me again. You had an itch and because I'm the only woman around for miles, you wanted to use me to scratch it."

She tilted her head and she smiled coldly. "The next time you have that particular urge, Jareth, take care of it yourself."

She turned on her heel, intending to go back to her room when Jareth flung back the linens and rose from his bed.

"I treated you as I would any desirable woman with whom I share a mutual attraction," his tone was cold.

She clenched her teeth and whirled around to face him, but Jareth continued before she could speak.

"Yet you were stubbornly determined to lie to me, to deny that this attraction exists. If I caught you out in that lie, Sarah, you have no one to blame but yourself."

Jareth's voice suddenly had an underlying tone of weariness that caught her completely off guard and as she regarded him standing there, arms angrily crossed over his bare chest, she choked off her harsh reply.

He was right, she realized. She had lied about being attracted to him. And as for using her, which one of them was really using the other? The Labyrinth had promised to give her what she desired most.

Well, there he stood.

Sarah bowed her head. Maybe she should admit to some of the truth. Not all of it - she wasn't ready to face that particular mortification - but some of the truth.

When she looked up, she wouldn't quite meet Jareth's eyes.

"Just because I find you attractive doesn't mean that we're going to sleep together. It was all just a game to you. Maybe that's the way it is for the fae, but that's not the way it is for me," she said quietly. "You didn't win, but you're right, you didn't really lose either. So, let's just call it even."

She started to turn back toward her bedroom when he spoke.

"You owe me two answers from earlier today," he said. "I will settle for one."

She steeled herself.

"If there had been no wager," he asked quietly, "no "game," as you put it, how would you have reacted?"

Sarah met his eyes and looked at him silently for a long moment.

"I would have kissed you," she admitted softly and then dropped her eyes again, suddenly blushing. "How far it would have gone from there, I honestly don't know. But we'll never know now, will we? And I really don't think there's any point in talking about this again."

With that, she went back into her bedroom and closed the door, leaving him standing beside his bed alone.

~*~*~*~*~

Jareth lay awake late into the night. Initially, he had been furious with Sarah. Apparently, she took him for a fool. Her continued denial of the very clear attraction between them would certainly indicate that she thought as much. However, after her admission of the truth, and after he had carefully considered her answer to his question, his anger had faded.

Her continued resistance made him reassess what he perceived to be her dreams. He had been so certain that he'd known what Sarah wanted, and while he wasn't usually wrong in his assessment of people, he wasn't infallible.

He thought back to their conversations. She had wished for her family to be alive again. Wishes were not necessarily dreams, but perhaps in Sarah's case they were the same.

She was tired of being alone. She wanted her family.

He had to find some way to give them back to her. It was not possible to restore them to life and she would not accept an illusion, but perhaps they could live again in another way.

~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, Sarah arose early. Her eyes burned and felt gritty, and she knew she needed more than the couple of hours sleep that she had gotten, but she wanted to get this task out of the way before Jareth awoke. She couldn't afford for it to be the basis of further discussion later in the day.

Sarah crept through the living room, pulling on her coat and then went out the back door. The snow seemed to have stopped for the moment, but the temperature was still well below freezing. The sun was just rising to the east, but it was far too cold to linger and admire the light beginning to play over the snow.

Pulling the plastic sled away from the back door where they had left it, Sarah slowly began struggling through the snow and made her way to the shed where the firewood was kept. Opening the door, she quickly loaded the sled.

She took the wood back into the cabin and piled it on the storage room floor, trying to be as quiet as possible. She'd decided to leave it there until Jareth was awake and then, while he was in the shower, she would fill the wood box in the living room.

Sarah made a second trip to the shed and was stacking wood onto the sled when a shadow fell across the doorway. She glanced up quickly to see Jareth standing there. He didn't speak; he simply began helping her stack the wood onto the sled.

~*~*~*~*~

Once they made it back into the cabin, they filled the wood box and rebuilt the fire.

"Why don't you take your shower while I make breakfast," Sarah said. "Then I'll take a shower while you eat. I didn't take one last night."

"You wish to avoid me?" he asked with a frown. "That is impossible in this place, surely you know that."

"I'm not trying to avoid you," Sarah said shaking her head. "I just don't want to argue with you, not today. I'm really tired and on top of everything else, it's Christmas Eve. Toby used to love this day, with all its anticipation..." her voice trailed away. "I used to love this day. We all did." A wistful note had entered her voice.

Jareth's expression softened. "Your family enjoyed this day?"

Sarah nodded, surprised at his interest.

"Christmas is a holiday, is it not?" Jareth asked. "How do you celebrate?"

Sarah was silent for so long that Jareth thought she wasn't going to answer. Finally, she began to speak in a hesitant voice.

"Well, first we'd all go and pick out a tree and take it home. Mostly we'd just buy one but one year we actually drove out to a friend's farm and cut down a tree. That was fun." Sarah smiled faintly. "Anyway, we'd decorate the tree and my stepmother would spend all day cooking while my dad and I tried to keep Toby from bouncing off the walls because he was so excited over Santa Claus."

"Santa Claus?"

"He's an elf that comes down the chimney on Christmas Eve and leaves presents for children to find on Christmas morning," she said dryly.

"Why does he enter through the chimney? That seems unnecessarily dangerous. And what is the purpose of the gifts?" Jareth asked, confused.

"It's just a story. Santa Claus isn't real," Sarah said and then narrowed her eyes at Jareth thoughtfully. "At least, I don't think he's real. After I met you, I was never really sure about that."

Jareth saw her contemplative look and shook his head. "I have met no such elf."

Sarah gave a harsh laugh and briefly covered her face with her hands. "Do you have any idea how surreal this conversation is?" She shook her head. "Anyway, none of this is important. I don't celebrate Christmas anymore. I don't like being reminded of... of everything that happened."

Jareth was silent for a moment. "Since your family enjoyed this holiday, perhaps you would feel better if you would honor their memory rather than dwell upon their deaths," he finally said. "If the situation had been reversed, Sarah, would you have wanted your family to mourn you to the exclusion of enjoying life?"

"I haven't done that," she said defensively.

Jareth merely raised an eyebrow. "Haven't you? Then go with me now to obtain a tree for this festivity."

"You can't be serious," Sarah said in disbelief.

"Why not? If this holiday was pleasing to you and your family, why should it not be pleasing to you again?"

"It wouldn't be the same," Sarah said, looking away from Jareth.

"No," he agreed. "It will never be the same. But perhaps it is time to make new memories and stop avoiding the old."

"Well, haven't you turned out to be quite the amateur psychologist?" Her voice was sarcastic.

He just crossed his arms and looked at her steadily.

She gave a peevish sigh. "We'd have to go back out outside and it's freezing."

"We are both already cold and wet," he said calmly. "Now would be the most logical time to go." He picked up her coat and held it out to her.

She stared at him, completely bewildered. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because we are trapped here together and when you are in a foul mood, you have no qualms about talking it out on me," he said in a pleasant tone.

"Oh, look who's talking," she shot back.

She hesitated and then snatched the coat from his hand. "All right, but if this makes me feel worse, you'll have to take it back outside."

~*~*~*~*~

They went to the storage shed to retrieve a handsaw and a shovel. Towing the sled behind them, they made their way through the small clearing behind the cabin into a more heavily wooded area. Stopping for a moment, Sarah instinctively examined the trees with a critical eye, looking for one with the right height and shape. Selecting a likely candidate, she waded her way through the snow to circle the tree, looking for imperfections.

When she nodded her approval, Jareth used the shovel to scrape the snow away from the base of the tree. Since Jareth had never used a saw before, he held the tree steady while Sarah knelt down and quickly sawed through the trunk.

The tree was loaded onto the sled and they took it back to the cabin and left it by the back door. Another trip to the storage shed to drop off the tools and pick up the boxes of decorations, and they were finally back at the cabin.

After a few false starts, they wrestled the tree into the stand and finally tipped it upright. They took turns showering and changing clothes and then, with the clean smell of fresh pine needles filling the cabin, Sarah made breakfast.

They ate quickly and Sarah washed the dishes while Jareth unpacked the boxes of decorations.

~*~*~*~*~

Jareth watched Sarah while she sat in the floor, looking into various boxes of ornaments. Her eyes had brightened and she wore a slight smile.

"My grandmother always used silver and gold ornaments," she said. "She thought they looked best with the multi-colored lights."

"These are placed upon the tree?" Jareth crouched next to her, examining a fragile silver ball with a small metal hook attached to the top.

"Well, you have to put the lights on first," she answered, nodding toward the tangled green ropes she had pulled from one of the larger boxes. "Then you put on the ornaments."

Jareth carefully replaced the glass ornament and picked up one of the ropes of lights.

"It will take hours to straighten these," he said.

Sarah shook her head. "No, it looks worse than it really is. Watch."

She took them from his hand and unwrapped the end that was twisted around the rest of the lights. She gently shook the lights and the strand began to loosen and drop free. They still tangled in a few places, but she quickly worked them apart.

Sarah plugged the lights into an electrical outlet and Jareth watched as they began emitting a soft luminescence. In a few moments, they began to blink off and on in a random pattern. Sarah smiled widely.

"I was afraid they wouldn't work but they're fine," she said, obviously pleased.

She began to drape the lights along the tree branches. When she had finished, she repeated the process with another strand of lights and Jareth had to admit that the jewel toned lights glowing among the green of the tree had a pretty effect.

"Now we put on the ornaments," Sarah said, picking up a box of the glass spheres. "Well?" She glanced at Jareth over her shoulder. "This was your idea, remember? Are you going to just stand there and watch or are you going to help?"

With a raised eyebrow, he picked up a box of ornaments and went to her side.

~*~*~*~*~

Sarah stood back, looking at the tree. It was beautiful, she thought. To her complete surprise, she didn't feel the horrible sadness that she'd thought she would feel. Maybe it was because the setting was different; she'd never spent Christmas at the cabin before. Or maybe it was because she'd decorated the tree with Jareth; she'd certainly never done that before, either.

At that thought, she gave him a sidelong look. He was standing with his hands on hips, head tilted, looking at the tree closely. He'd turned out to be one of those people who redecorated the tree after it was finished. Immediately after she had placed her last ornament on the tree, he'd begun switching the colors so that there weren't two gold or silver ornaments hanging side by side.

But it had made the tree even prettier, she admitted with a wry smile.

"Now what is the next thing we should do?" he asked.

At that, Sarah stopped and shook her head, suddenly at a loss. "I... I don't know," she said softly. "This isn't..." She bit her lip. "This is new."

"Your stepmother cooked, you said. Is there a traditional meal to be prepared?"

"Not for today, but tomorrow... I didn't buy a turkey. I don't think I have all the things to make stuffing, anyway. I know I don't have the yeast to make rolls," she said, a crease suddenly marring her forehead. "And there's supposed to be cranberry sauce."

The more that it occurred to her that she had no way to make the traditional Christmas dinner, the harder it became to breathe.

Jareth frowned. Sarah had wrapped her arms protectively around herself and her voice was shaking. She was obviously becoming more and more upset as she spoke.

"Then we will have a different menu," he said soothingly. "This traditional meal seems far too elaborate for merely the two of us, in any case."

She nodded, and then bowed her head and took a sharp breath. "It's really never going to be the same again, is it?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"No," Jareth replied, softly. "It is not."

He watched an almost panicked expression creep into her eyes. She turned back to the tree and began shaking her head. Before she could speak, he reached out and touched her arm. Startled, she looked back at him.

"What was your favorite meal when you were a child?" he asked. "Perhaps that is the meal we should have tomorrow. Again, we will start a new tradition."

Her eyes began clear and she relaxed slightly. "Um, well, we certainly can't have a Happy Meal."

"While it may not be joyous, there is no reason for it to be a sad occasion, either," Jareth replied.

He was dumbfounded when Sarah snorted and then began to laugh softly.

"No," she said, still smiling, "a Happy Meal is a child's meal that you get at a particular restaurant. I loved those when I was a kid. There was always a little toy or something in them."

While Jareth didn't appreciate being laughed at simply because he failed to know the menu of a restaurant, at least it seemed to have broken the tension that had been building within her.

She tilted her head and looked at him. "What was your favorite meal when you were a kid?"

He raised an eyebrow and thought for a moment. "Honey cakes," he finally said. "When I was a small boy, whenever there was a special occasion, our cook would prepare spiced honey cakes cooked on a griddle for our breakfast. They were not overly sweet and I enjoyed them very much."

"How about your favorite meal as an adult?" Sarah asked.

"Roasted chicken," he said without hesitation.

"I'm surprised," she said, raising an eyebrow, "I would have thought something more exotic."

Jareth sighed. "The goblins tend to be careless with their livestock, particularly their chickens, and they end up in the castle from time to time. Each time I eat a roasted chicken, I am assured that there is one less underfoot."

Sarah's mouth rounded in astonishment and then she burst out laughing. "That's mean," she said, still laughing.

"Not at all," he answered with a smile. "It is clearly self-defense. They make a terrible mess."

~*~*~*~*~

Sarah made lunch and after they'd eaten, Jareth read while she sat at the dining table, poring through her grandmother's recipes and cookbooks. Matching what she had in the storeroom against recipes, she'd finally decided on a modified version of her grandmother's Sunday dinner: roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, green peas and corn. She could even make an apple pie for dessert.

She glanced up at Jareth. He was sitting, one hand propping his head up, and one leg drawn up under him, leaning comfortably against the arm of the sofa. He looked completely relaxed.

It seemed that last night's disagreement had been forgotten, at least by Jareth. After she'd given it some thought, she couldn't really blame him for what happened. He'd tried and she'd said no. He'd dropped the subject and she had been the one to pursue it. And today, he'd been pleasant and she'd been the one getting defensive.

The flashing lights of the Christmas tree drew her attention. It really was very pretty, she thought. It just seemed a little sad without any presents under it, though. Sarah bit her lip. Jareth was so curious about the Christmas holiday. Maybe there was a way to put their argument behind them and allow him to have a bit more of the holiday experience, but she couldn't remember what supplies had been left here at the cabin or taken back to New York with her.

Sarah walked across the room to the shelves by the stereo and breathed a sigh of relief when she found what she'd hoped to find.

Jareth looked up at her curiously.

"I'm still working on the menu," she said and he nodded. When he turned his attention back to his book, she picked up a sketchpad and an assortment of pencils and erasers from the shelf. Turning back casually, she held them against her and returned to the dining table.

She quickly propped several of the cookbooks open on the table and hid the pad behind them. When she was certain that he was still reading, Sarah picked up a pencil and began to sketch, stealing glances at him. When she'd roughed out the sketch to her satisfaction, she closed the pad. She would finish it tonight and surprise him with it in the morning.

She began to gather up the cookbooks when something else occurred to her. She paused and then opened the books again, looking for one last recipe.

~*~*~*~*~

"Did you want to play?" Jareth asked, gesturing toward the backgammon set as Sarah began to put away the cookbooks.

"Not today, if you don't mind. I'd rather not have time to sit and think about things." She hesitated. "Could we just talk?"

Surprised, Jareth set his book aside. "About?"

Sarah put the last of the cookbooks away and turned back to him.

"I've wanted to ask - how are Hoggle and Sir Didymus and Ludo? I haven't seen them in so long."

Now Jareth was truly taken aback. "You haven't kept in contact with them? You were able to do so. I allowed them the freedom to visit you."

Sarah looked down. "I haven't called them since before..." Her voice trailed off and she gestured mutely toward the Christmas tree. "And then I was afraid they wouldn't come."

"They are well, as far as I am aware. The dwarf is still tending the shrubbery near the Labyrinth entrance. The little knight has returned to guarding the bridge," Jareth looked at Sarah pointedly, "after it was rebuilt. As for the other creature, he routinely frightens my guards."

"They pick on him," Sarah admonished.

"Not any longer," Jareth grinned briefly. "It seems that he usually has pebbles and small rocks trailing along in his wake. Now when he is seen, the guards run in the opposite direction."

"Good for Ludo," Sarah smiled and sat on the sofa next to him. After a moment, she frowned slightly. "You need better guards. If the four of us could beat them, it doesn't say much about their abilities," she pointed out.

Jareth raised an eyebrow. "Your concern is touching, but unnecessary. I fear no attack." He smiled bitterly. "What does my kingdom have that anyone would want?"

Sarah drew her legs up under her to sit cross-legged on the sofa. "That brings up something else that I've been wondering about. If the Labyrinth is so powerful, if you can do so much that the others can't do, then why aren't you running the whole place?"

"High King?" Jareth was astonished for a moment and then threw his head back and laughed. "Why ever would I want to be High King?"

"Well," Sarah fidgeted for a moment, "you don't seem very happy running the Goblin Kingdom. I thought you might want to be the one in charge of everything. Just because your great-great grandfather got stuck with the job, why should you have to put up with it?"

Jareth shook his head. "It would not be a matter of simply announcing that I had decided to be High King. It would require that I curry favor with the various kingdoms in order to garner support in the war that would inevitably follow."

"Oh," Sarah said, "I didn't know. I just thought it would be whoever was the most powerful."

"Politically powerful, yes," Jareth agreed. "Not necessarily who controls the most magical power."

Sarah looked down and played with the hem of her jeans. "What does it feel like? To be able to do magic?"

He smiled, slightly bemused at her questions. "Like breathing, I suppose. It is simply part of who I am."

"Did you have to be taught?" She looked up at him. "Or were you born being able to do it?"

"I had to be trained to control it." He nodded slightly. "But I was born with the ability."

Sarah laughed. "That must have allowed you to throw some pretty spectacular temper tantrums when you were a baby."

"That is the reason that a child's ability is not initially as strong as his parents," Jareth replied with a smile, then gave her a thoughtful look. "I am not certain that your abilities will ever grow to match my own. You are not fae and this is a rather unique situation."

"My abilities?" Sarah looked flabbergasted. "What do you mean - my abilities?"

"I cannot have a queen who is unable to control magic," Jareth said, puzzled at her reaction. "If for no other reason, you will need it simply to deal with the goblins. Therefore, you will be granted access to my magic through our marriage ceremony. But surely you were aware of this?"

"How was I supposed to be aware of it?" she demanded, throwing up her hands. "I don't know anything about what goes on in the Underground."

He gave a slow smile. "Does this make a difference? Are you now more amenable to returning?"

"No," she said flatly. "It doesn't make a difference." She shrugged slightly. "Well, I mean, not that it wouldn't be great to be able to..." She broke off her sentence at his knowing look and said defensively, "No, it doesn't make a difference."

"Just think of the things you would be able to do, Sarah," Jareth said, his voice suddenly low and inviting. "Would you like to move from place to place at will? Or perhaps you would like to take the mental images you have and put them on canvas exactly as you see them in your mind's eye. They would be perfect. I can teach you how to do these things."

"Stop that," she admonished.

"Stop what?" he asked, innocence personified.

"Trying to tempt me," Sarah said, chagrined. "It's not going to work."

Jareth raised an eyebrow and smirked.

Sarah shot him a warning glance and pointed at him. "Don't say a word. We're not going to talk about that."

"Why do you resist so?" Jareth asked, frustration suddenly seeping into his voice.

"Why are you so determined to keep trying to convince me?" She frowned.

"Because I need to go home, Sarah," Jareth said sharply. He stood abruptly and began pacing in front of the sofa. "I have duties and responsibilities. The goblins have probably already destroyed everything within their grasp. And by now even the most dull-witted of them has surely noticed that their king has simply vanished. They must be confused and frightened about what has taken place. My kingdom needs my attention and I cannot even summon up enough magic to look at my world, much less return to it."

Sarah looked stricken. "I'm so sorry," she said softly.

He turned to her. "Do not apologize. This is not your fault. As soon as the Labyrinth stops playing this childish game and allows me access to my magic, we will return."

She glanced down. "You still don't know what you're supposed to do?"

"No," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I am not certain."

"Um, if we're going to have Christmas dinner, I'd better take the chicken out of the freezer," Sarah said.

Jareth looked at her curiously when she wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No," she shook her head, her eyes flashed up to his and then quickly away. "Nothing."

~*~*~*~*~

Sarah put the frozen chicken on a plate and placed it in the refrigerator to thaw. She started checking to make certain that she had all the ingredients for tomorrow's dinner, but her thoughts kept turning back to Jareth. She hadn't really considered this situation from his perspective. And this didn't affect just him; it was affecting an entire kingdom.

He did need to go home.

Sighing, Sarah leaned against the kitchen counter. Well, now what was she supposed to do? Jareth would be furious when he learned of the deal she'd made with the Labyrinth. Would it be enough to simply tell him of it or would the Labyrinth consider that it hadn't lived up to its part of the bargain until they slept together? Either way, she'd have to go back to the Underground and she wasn't certain she was ready to do that. There were still too many unanswered questions.

Tears filled her eyes as she realized that all those years of waiting for the right man had been wasted because of a careless agreement that she'd made in a dream.

Resigned, she realized that there was only one way to get the answers she needed. She was going to have to ask Jareth.