Your Eyes Can Be So Cruel

And we have chapter 9. I move into my new place this weekend, but I can't get all of my stuff for a few weeks after so I may not be able to post again until April. *ducks*

However, there is some good stuff in this capture.

WARNING: If you do not like abuse, BDSM, humiliation, etc. Please do not read this chapter. Flames will be ignored.

No lemons yet, but I gave you a warm up to hold you over until the next chapter.

Thanks readers and Kit!

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At the final stroke of the clock Toby and the goblin came running back into the room. Her little brother waved at her with a silly little grin creasing his face.

“Bye Sarah!” He shouted while his arm continued to wave and started his whole body wiggling. “Jareth said it was time for bed when the clock did that ding thing!”

And then he ran out the castle door with the goblin. No hug, no I’ll miss you, but then again he probably had no idea what was happening. He just thought it was fun and games because Jareth was known for making it seem like nothing but that. Never mind the fact that apparently he had every intention of sending Toby home with or without her saying his name.

Why wasn’t she home yet? Why didn’t she leave with Toby? Where were all of the falling and broken pieces of stairs floating around her? She had made it back to the castle before the clock struck five. That meant that she won.

She turned back to Jareth, forgetting he still had a hold of her in her moment of triumph which quickly crumpled from her face at the wolfish smile that was still on his. However, in her usual fashion she turned stubborn. Damn that man and his smugness!

“Send me home.” She demand and glared at him once again. God, he frustrated her so much!

Jareth just chuckled and pushed her further into the wall. She hated it when he laughed at her and he was doing a lot of it on this trip. She wanted him to be the one that was unsettled again, not her.

“I don’t think so Sarah.” His other hand went to the wall beside her head, but she barely noticed and she looked at him incredulously.

“What do you mean ‘you don’t think so’?” Her voice raised just slightly, but unlike most girls instead of going shrill her voice lowered in her annoyance. “I got back to the castle in time. You told me if I did you’d send me back!”

Jareth continued to smile. “I never said I would send you back Sarah. I said I would allow you to have free will while you remained here and not completely be my slave.”

Her eyes widened in alarm. She couldn’t possibly stay here, and to be his slave forever! If the look he was giving her was any indication there would be no Cinderella scrubbing the floors of the castle in this bad fairytale. The images that were brought to her mind at that thought were things she was not prepared to look into further at this time. No matter how fast they made her heart race, it was just because the idea made her panic. That was all it was, just panic and anxiety.

“That’s not fair.” She whispered as her thoughts were scrambling for some sort of argument. Her eyes light up for the briefest of moments. “You have no power over me.”
She said with a small smile.

“Don’t I Sarah?” He was playing with a bit of her hair and she turned to look, brushing her cheek against the smooth, warm leather. “Maybe that was true five years ago, but not anymore.”

Damn her heart for pounding so hard against her chest!

“Magic works in funny ways Sarah, and though you knew that I existed you never acknowledged me.”

That hand that was playing with a few tendrils now found its way into her hair, those damn fingers, running soothing lines down her neck. Soothing…just enough to make the prey unsuspecting, Sarah thought while trying to not give into those calming strokes and melt into him. He shifted, pushing her legs apart with his knee before settling to where she was trapped all the more. What was with him and the pinning? Must be a male thing. He has to assert his dominance and all that. Do not think about the thigh, do not think about the thigh…

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sarah cursed herself for the slightly quivering tone in her voice.

She jumped at the feel of his cheek touching hers and the warm breath that tickled across her ear as he spoke.

“You said my name Sarah. If I was only in your fantasy and dreams, then I can have no power over you,” she clenched her hand slightly until she remembered that it was still resting on his chest, “but you made me real Sarah.”


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The problem with the Circle was their decorating skills.

Marek had decided this many years ago, but he was still reminded of it every time he had to set foot in this goddess forsaken place. Which was often and not to his liking, nor was it his choice. He couldn’t stand the pure white walls that glowed just faintly enough that it made everything seem out of focus, though they believed in was enchanting and calming. Not to mention the matching white floors with the random bits of blue stones that sparkled like gems, or the gold filigree doors and windows. It was elven cliché at its finest. Spirals here, and knots there, and don’t forget the random courtyards with the brightly colored flowers and the little pixies flying everywhere.

Made his stomach turn.

Damn Jareth. Damn Jareth and his Labyrinth to the deepest pits of hell.

How he wished he could force his brother into this eternity of court and pleasantries. Make him mingle with the creatures of the Underground, smile and nod, bow and scrape. Laugh when you’re supposed, talk about the weather, and who is marrying whom. Why should Jareth be allowed to glower and brood from a distance? Why was it the great Goblin King is only ever expected to show his face in court at the Gathering?

Marek’s dark demeanor seemed to be seeping from his every pore and was causing many of the ladies that he passed to shy away from him when they were usually fawning and falling over themselves to get closer. Maybe Jareth was good for something after all. Jareth put him into a bad enough mood that he didn’t have to play nice with all ditzy pretties that plagued the already unbearable halls. His scowl landed on one of the pretties that he didn’t mind as much, though it mattered little since she, like most of the fey women that were worth anything, had her eyes on his brother. Oh he wished he could just….blast something, but then there would be red tape to cut through as to why he had destroyed something. He pushed the violent thoughts from his mind as he got closer to her.

Feral.

She was anything but what her name suggested in his opinion. She had soft skin almost the color of gold, but her face and shoulders were dappled with beams of moonlight. The same color as her waist length hair that fell straight and sharp down her body. A body that was both lean and supple like so many of her kind. Well half of them any way since she was half fey and half Dechaine elf. The fey tended to be longer limbed and soft, where the Dechaine were smaller and robust. Feral was a perfect blending of the two the more he looked at her. Though she was far too naïve and soft spoken for her to be anything more than an amusement to him. It was no wonder Jareth turned away from the golden eyed beauty when Sarah was such a mortal spitfire.

He would have stayed lost once again in the taste of that mortal if it weren’t for the soft smile of the woman in front of him. She was always so sincere in her happiness to see him. It made him wonder if she was aware of any of the darkness or evils of the Underground, or anywhere else for that matter. She politely excused herself from one of the ditzy ones and floated towards him, that easy smile still in place and her eyes sparkling.

She reached out for him, the long sleeves of silver silk trailing on the ground as he took her slender hands into his own. She kissed him on the cheek and he took in every ounce of that smell that was her. She always smelled like the forest after the rain, and it was intoxicating. Something that he repeatedly blamed on the wild magic of her elven kindred.

“Little brother,” her voice was soft almost to the point of sing song. He of course ignored the term since it was a custom of her savage half to refer to everyone as family. “Why do you frown so and scare so many of the women with your mood?”

Marek couldn’t help the twitch of his mouth, nor the tug at the corner of his lips that made him smile at her. “The usual dear lady.”

She nodded once her hair falling forward and tickling the back of his hands.

“You should not fret so over your brother. Let him be in the castle he chooses as his own prison.”

There was no hurt or resentfulness to her words. Even though Marek knew it was never easy for her to talk about his brother. She loved Jareth to the deepest part of her being, in her sweet innocent way. She had even offered Jareth marriage, but his brother was far too wrapped up in his little mortal to ever give another female a second glance. The fact that he had denied Feral long before Sarah even existed was beside the point.

She squeezed his hands, still beaming at him.

Perhaps it was the foul mood that he was already in, or perhaps it was the fact that he couldn’t stand her constant state of cheer. He wasn’t sure, nor cared which it was, but he felt it was time to cause others a bit of pain. He wondered if perhaps Feral was as beautiful crying and she was smiling. He had an unexplainable urge to see those tears streaking down her face and all because Jareth would be breaking her heart. Marek was merely the bearer of bad news, and perhaps he could have a bit of fun with being the consoling arms and kind words in which to sooth her.

“I’m afraid I can not in this instance” Marek made a big scene of looking up and down the hallway at the scattered people before pulling Feral into one of the nearby courtyards.

The woman’s face creased with concern as he gently sat her down on one of the benches.

“I fear that perhaps my brother has gone too far.” He squeezed her hand looking off in the distance as if searching for answers.

Feral untangled one of her hands from his in order to rest it on his shoulder. “What is it little brother?” She tried smiling once again. “Jareth could not have done something too terrible, though he seems to be so great and terrible himself.”

Marek turned back to her, his eyes searching hers.

“Can trapping a mortal girl in the Underground be a good thing? Keeping her against her wishes and will?”

Marek had to force the smile back into his mind as he watched Feral’s face crumble and her eyes go wide in shock.

“He would never do such a thing!” She said in a forced whisper, quickly checking over her shoulder as a few couples passed by the entry way for this particular courtyard. It would not do for others in the Fey Circle to know of such a scandal. Jareth was a highly respected and sometimes feared member of their world.

He grabbed both her hands and pulled them to his chest tightly. A bit overdramatic, but it was working after all. A little quiver to his voice and the shine of unshed tears would push her over the edge in no time.

“I fear he has. I saw her myself Lady Feral. Lost within the Labyrinth, and she is no lost child looking for a sibling. She’s a woman in mortal years.” Feral turned away from him, her eyes wild.

“But why?” Her voice was strained with the tears that she was holding back.

Marek knew now was the time for the striking blow.

“I believe it’s because he loves her and can find no other way to win her heart.”


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Who knew that it would be so easy to get Sarah under control with only a few sentences? He had to admit it was a blessing that the girl was in such shock she didn’t argue or fight as the tiny goblin woman led her away. No annoying questions, no declarations of what was fair. Just quiet and docile, something he hoped wouldn’t last very long so that he could bring it back out again on his own terms.

In truth he only found a mild satisfaction in her demeanor at his victory. He thought it would be so much sweeter to have his revenge on her. Though perhaps that was merely because he had expected so much more of a reaction out of her than what she gave him. He had expected her to rage and scream; to fight or flight, but in the end she just stood there. Her eyes glazed over in thought and her hands lifeless against his chest.
It was like she was back in that state of confusion after she had shattered the peach dream.

He wasn’t worried about it too much. His Sarah would return in all her fire and indignation.

Jareth was taking his time with her though. He wanted her nervous, he wanted her to not suspect anything he was going to do, and damn it, in the end he wanted her begging.

He was finding that it was best to take his solitude in the throne room for once. All his little minions were once again bustling around their little city in their normal lives. Goblins were not appreciated. Once you understood how to communicate to them they could be productive once in a while. Or at least be out of the way.

Jareth had been staring off into space, his leg draped over one side of the throne, his hand idly tapping a rhythm on his thigh. If he were a lesser man he would have jumped at the distant bang of a very large, heavy door. Perhaps he would have even startled at the goblin running at him at a breakneck speed shouting for his attention. All so normal it wasn’t even worth his notice. The creature that came through the door after the goblin in its silent fury, however, was.

He had to admit she was rather attractive in her regal air. The fey shown through in her stiff posture and calm outwardly demeanor, but her eyes were all Dechaine. They blazed with a fire he had rarely seen in their time of acquaintance and mild friendship. Her gold eyes burned holes into him; her cheeks were a bit darker than normal on the golden tone while the dappled white was stained pink at the very edges. He wondered whether or not the white would change for other reasons, but at the speed the agitated female was advancing on him deemed it an inappropriate time to think on such things.
She stopped a mere foot from him. Jareth for his part didn’t bother to get up. He was the king after all.

“How dare you…” Her voice was rough and challenging. A tone he had never heard from her. That in and of itself made the Goblin King swing from his lounging position in order to face her better.

“I would tread lightly Lady.” He warned. “For you are in my Kingdom, and the Circle’s protection does not reach here.” He watched as she reigned in her temper, but she did not move away and cower as most would from the deadly tone of his voice. It was both refreshing and annoying.

She pulled her shoulders back a bit further before addressing him once more.

“Is it true you hold a mortal against her will?” Her eyes narrowed just a bit, watching him for any indication. Jareth looked sideways towards the hall Sarah had walked down moments earlier.

“Perhaps it is against her will Feral, but it is no concern of yours.” Jareth was a little stunned when the woman took a menacing step forward, and it was menacing, it just had no effect on him.

“It is my every concern if you do. I hold you in all respect Jareth, but you have no right to take a young woman and hold her here for your amusement!”

Jareth stood quickly. All thoughts of keeping his temper in check no longer visible. In all of his years he had never heard such an accusation, and he would be damned if he let it continue. Feral stood her ground despite the fact that he was at least a head taller than her and glowering. Many men would have run from his wrath, but not this woman.

She knew him all too well.

“You know very well I can do no such thing.” He watched as her eyes betrayed her. She knew he was right, but her anger still wanted proof. “She was wished away Feral. The law is the law, and what’s said is said.”

She gave a single nod her eyes finally breaking away from his. Her shoulders almost slumped with relief which was odd since this was the only woman he knew to have perfect posture at all times. She nodded again this time to herself.

“I apologize, your majesty.” Her voice still sounded rough, perhaps with tears, but all challenge had vanished. “It seems I have been misinformed. Of course it would be silly for you to do such a thing and to fall in love with a mortal as well.” She laughed lightly. It was a sound both beautiful and strained.

Jareth made no move. He gave no answer. Upon the silence Feral looked up into his eyes once more. She found all the answers she needed there. Her hand lifted from her side and gently touched his cheek.

“How is it your eyes can be so beautiful and so cruel all at once?”

She didn’t wait for a reply. She knew she would never get one, and it was far better to leave before meeting the woman who had captured the heart that she so longed to have. Feral turned away from him and as elegantly as any queen left just as quickly as she had appeared.

Jareth couldn’t keep the swell of anger down any longer. He had kept it at bay as long as he could, because though he was hard and cruel he had some ounce of honor and respected Feral. He never would have hurt her if it had come to that, but someone was going to feel the brunt of his rage.

He spun on his heel and stalked in the direction of his unsuspecting victim.


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Sarah blinked a few times.

She had no idea where she was. Had she blacked out or something? She looked around her cautiously, but there was no sign of the dreaded Goblin King. Instead she found herself in a bedroom fit for any princess. From the large black four poster bed covered in swags of red velvet to the marble fireplace and plush carpets. As she stared around the room she gave herself a vicious pinch to the inside of her arm.

“Owe!” Sarah hissed, slowly getting up from the black chair she had been apparently sitting in.

She walked over to the fireplace and ran her hand over the mantle, taking in the three candles that twisted and fell like twined ribbons of red and silver. She touched one carefully, afraid that the lightest pressure would cause the design to crumble, but it withstood the assault. Her eyes followed the pattern, the swells and dips, the curves and lines. She was giving herself something else to focus on in order to not faced what was happening and she knew it.

Her eyes drifted upwards to find her reflection in the gilded mirror she had not noticed before. It was like she was in one of those bad horror movies, where every time you thought you got away from the killer he was right behind you again. Her eyes flickered from her own to the shadowy figure in the doorway. The door creaked and then clicked closed before he started stalking towards. And he was stalking. Not walking quickly, not sauntering, he was the hunter and she had just become the prey. The shiver she been fighting for so long now ran up her spine at the fire in his eyes.

He stopped a breadths space away from her. His pale face was both stunning and terrifying in his anger, and she couldn’t stand the way it made her feel. He held her eyes for a moment longer in the mirror before grabbing a fistful of her hair and spinning her about. She winced from the pull and shock of being slammed into his chest. The cold metal of his pendant bit into the skin of her own chest and made her bite her lower lip in response.

“No more fighting Sarah. No more running.” Her hands flew to his chest to push him away. The tone in his voice made her feel like a bird trapped in a cage.

She nearly whimpered as he pulled her tighter to him, her body was shot through with pain…and excitement? She tried struggling more, pushing harder at him she turned her face away, but he didn’t budge. He didn’t even falter in his hold on her, and before she knew it her head had been ripped back around so fast her world was spinning and then he was kissing her again. It was both crushing and suffocating. He pulled her head back farther as his tongue slipped past her lips. She had the briefest urge to bite him, and then she was melting.

It was like all of those dark fantasies she had for so many years. She wanted to hate him and fight him and run from this place, but why? That was why she had been running. She had been running from him. She had been running from the possibilities of these fantasies actually happening. Did she want them real or did she just want them to stay fantasy?

It looked as if she had very little choice in the matter if the bruising bite to her neck was any indication. Things were in a whirlwind. The moment she got over one sensation, there was another. She was stuck between pins and needles of pleasure and pain. The piercing of his teeth with the warm soothing flick of his tongue made her stomach drop, but it was short lived before she was flipped around and her top was torn from her body. There was a moment of confusion as to how in the hell he broke buckles before she remembered he had magic on his side.

Out of reflex Sarah’s arms flew up to cover her chest, though it seemed Jareth was in no way interested. His brown and blue eyes still showed with a fury far colder than in the flower field. She gasped as he roughly grabbed her arm and started dragging her towards the bed. At this point she was torn between wanting whatever he was about to do and screaming for help. This wasn’t a fantasy anymore. This was real.

This is real, this is real, this is real….

Perhaps if she kept telling herself that she would be able to get the butterflies from her stomach. If she believed it her heart would stop at the feel of his tight grip, and she would become angry at his uncaring treatment of her. All these thoughts seemed hollow as he threw her down to the bed. He quickly and effectively flipped her onto her stomach, her arms now pinned beneath her own body, and kicked her feet apart. His hand was once again in her hair, but this time it was slower and more measured. He lifted her hair from her back, tickling her in the process. She shuddered again as he leaned over her, his weight was comforting in an odd way. His other hand was running up her side, the leather causing goose bumps to appear over her ribs.

The almost gentle touch didn’t last as long as she hoped it would. She could have been lost in the tingling strokes, but it would seem he didn’t want her to feel such kindness. She whimpered as he bit each of her shoulders. At first they had been light, the kind that made her stomach feel warm and her body to prickle, but they rapidly turned harder until she cried out in pain. She buried her face into the blankets and bit the inside of her cheek to hold the tears back that threatened to spill down her cheeks at any moment. When she felt his tongue and teeth on the back of her neck she thought her world had come completely crashing down around her. It was too much. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way. She wasn’t supposed to like him hurting her. She wasn’t supposed to want more.

She was going to get more though. It wasn’t like the stories she would read late at night. There wasn’t anything pretty and romantic about the way he handled her. She wasn’t a beautiful princess that was thrown into a world of glitzy slavery. That was made all too clear at the first stripe that struck across her back. She sucked in a breath as the stinging dulled and then she could feel the exact line across her back from the heat the blow had pulled from her body. There was another strike, and another. She wanted to cry out. She wanted to scream for him to stop, and she was ashamed that part of wanted him to hit her again.

Sarah could feel each new line burn as hot as fire and sting so sharply, and then each one would dull to warm and a lulling throb. At some point she had started sobbing into the bed under the measured yet relentless attack. She couldn’t be sure how long he etched out the pattern on her back. Her mind narrowed down the rhythm and the force. Her body would tense and then relax between each one and she found herself wanting the next one. She wanted the stripe and the heat that followed. Her cries became louder as they started to cross over each other, her mind in a haze of pain, and her face soaked from her tears. All the while he said nothing to her. It was just the sound of whatever he was using to mark her flesh and her hoarse voice in the room. She hated him for it. She hated him for doing this to her and not making a single sound, though her thoughts were torn away from her when the attack on her back suddenly stopped.

There was a single cool caress of leather down the length of her spine that made her tense and shudder. She arched into it, the sensation calming and soothing to her battered body and nerves. The hand left quickly, and then he dealt her the hardest blow of the whole ordeal that stretched from her shoulder to her waist in one wicked slant. Sarah’s whole body locked in pain as she screamed and fresh tears burst from her eyes.
Another moment of reprieve and then he was laying over her again. The combination of his weight and the silk of his shirt felt both wonderful and annoying.

“You are so lovely when you cry Sarah.” He whispered in her ear.