A/N:  I've forgone individual thank-you's for just a bit longer in order to get some chapters out speedily, but I do love all of you that review and I guarantee, next chapter will be the N&F reviewers hall of fame!  Review today and live in infamy! (I'm just shameless, aren't I?)

Disclaimer:  It's not my world, I just destort it.  Chapter title and lyrics by Michelle Branch, "Goodbye."

Never and Forever

Chapter Eleven

Over With

I still get lost in your eyes

And it seems I can't live a day without you

Closing my eyes

And you'll chase my thoughts away

To a place where I am blinded by the light

But it's not right

            Ever so slowly, Sarah uncurled the clenched fingers of her right hand with her left hand.  The fabric of her dress slouched where she had clutched it, wrinkled and loose now.  She counted her breaths as they went in and out, felt each pass of air swirl around her and try to strangle her.  No.  It wasn't true.  And she was being silly.

            Silly!  She ordered her heart to slow down, to stop wracking her like an earthquake.  It was simple.  She was sitting at a distance from a pair of gossiping goblins, and taking what she thought she heard as God-given truth.  It was ridiculous.  Very, very silly.

            Her knees creaked when she stood up, as though she'd been sitting there five years instead of five minutes and had rusted solid.  She stood there and looked around, catching several goblins giving her curious, sheepish stares.  Her pulse was ringing in her ears, wasn't that strange, a slow, dull thud that kicked the air out of her lungs with every beat.  Walk.  All she had to do was walk.  It wasn't true.  It obviously wasn't true.  Everything was fine.  Fine. 

            But she'd heard them say it twice.

~

            "The arrangements suit you then, your Highness?"

            "Charmont," Jareth said shortly, "you know that I have no interest in this sort of thing.  You can hold the ceremony Aboveground, for all I care, as long as you get it done."  If Charmont had not been the Erl King, he would have shifted uneasily in his chair.

            "You did sign the papers, your Highness…"

            "Of course I did."  Jareth spat.   "The deal is done.  May we move on?"

            "You had other matters you wished to discuss?"  King Charmont asked with mock surprise.

            "Do not jest about my mother's extradition.  I will collect her the day after the ceremony."

            "Do you mean to tell me, King Jareth, that you do not look forward to a morning of marital bliss?"  Charmont was mocking again, and it made Jareth clench his teeth.

            "She will find ways to enjoy her free time."

~

            Jareth found her in the gardens.  Sarah was sitting on a low stone bench, her knees drawn up to her chest and her dress flowing to the ground.  She held a beautiful soft purple flower in her hands, small and delicate.  And she was ripping the petals off.

            He half expected to hear her chanting he loves me; he loves me not, under her breath, as mortal girls were prone to do.  But no.  One petal torn, stared at, then tossed to the wind.  And another.  And another.  Should he tell her that that particular flower would continue to regenerate petals as long as she shredded them?

            "Are you hungry?"  He asked, laying a hand on her shoulder.  She jumped so hard at the touch that he pulled his hand back, and when she whirled around to look at him she looked like a frightened rabbit, caught in a hunter's snare.  "Are you all right?"  He demanded, kneeling down beside her so that his head was just above hers.  She reached up and traced his eyebrows with light fingers, barely stroked his cheekbones and his lips till his eyes fluttered closed.

            "I'm fine."  She said softly, and he leaned down closer until there lips met.  Her hands slid from his face to link around his neck, and his hands were suddenly moving faster than they ever had before.  They trailed across her stomach and up her sides to scarcely brush her breasts, something he'd never done before.

            Sarah backpedaled quickly and his hands moved to rest safely across her back, but he did not let her go and he did not stop kissing her.  Soon his tongue was sliding against her lips, across her teeth until she moaned and oh, this was new and dangerous territory.

            He felt her shaking underneath his grasp.  Felt waves of nervousness and confusion and outright fear radiate from her but he didn't stop, not when he needed to feel her there with him so badly, to know that he had made the right decision.  Her hands came down to his chest as if to push him away but froze there, palms flat against his beating heart.  And she collapsed against him.  Pulled her mouth from his and slumped against his chest and pressed her ear to that beating heart, to hear it and feel it and know that he had not deceived her.  She didn't want to play games with him, not today.

            Jareth's heart beat faster as he wrapped his arms tighter around her – what was this?  Was this just the aftershock of seeing one of her friends take sick from something she didn't understand?  Tortures above, why was she so silent?

            Suddenly she pulled back, laughing a nervous, embarrassed laugh and took a deep breath as though to clear her lungs of musty air.

            "Thank you," she said, thinking he was truly hers.  "For everything."  And she stood, and he with her, and as they walked to the castle he still held one protective arm about her.  He had found no reassurance.

~

            They talked about nonsense things throughout dinner.  Petty, irrelevant things and Sarah lied and said she'd gone to see Ari, and yes, she was fine.  And she hoped she was, and swore to herself that first thing tomorrow she would see her for real.  However, she decided, if she felt so moved as to bring a gift, she would bring flowers from the castle garden.  She'd had enough of the damned Goblin City to last her awhile, so that she did not particularly want to go out again – but then, she was quickly finding she didn't want to stay in the castle with Jareth very much either.

            Something was most distinctly Wrong.  Not that things had ever felt, well, capital-r Right with him either, she felt as though the very bricks were staring at her, waiting for something to go down.  And something did.

            "Sarah, come here."  Sarah came, walked from the other end of a foolishly long table to stand with Jareth, to let him lead her to a window and run his hand through her hair.  "I want to give you this."  He said softly, conjuring a crystal.  Sarah took it curiously, and the moment it was in her hands it melted away into a small white box.  Sarah's breath caught in her throat and she couldn't look at Jareth, though she could feel him looking at her with smiling eyes.  Oh, she'd been a damned fool.

            Her hands were steady as she opened the lid, because she knew what was in it, she knew and could feel that goofy grin spreading on her lips again, and her mind was already spinning with the best way to say yes –

            A strangled gasp tore from her throat.  Tearless sobs began to wrack her body; her hands spasmed and the box with the jeweled owl pendent fell to the floor.  Her head jerked and she looked at Jareth, her eyes filled with fire and flood.

            "Who are you getting married to, Jareth?"  His hand froze midway to touch her cheek and the colour drained from his eyes till they were grey and his skin a deadly pallor.

            "Sarah –"

            "Who are you getting married to?"

            "Sarah, you do not understand –"

            "I saw the goddamn ring, Jareth."  She was shouting now, her voice cracking in an unbearable way.  "Don't try and tell me it isn't true, because I saw it, and I know.  Who are you getting married to?"

            "Sarah –"

            "Stop saying my name!"

            "Then stop interrupting me!"  He was yelling now too, why couldn't he stop?  She took a step back at that, and he grabbed her wrist to keep her from retreating.

            "Don't touch me!"

            "Please, listen to me," he said, his voice down to a lower decibel but hard as ice.

            "No!"  Sarah cried, trying to wrench herself free.  He grabbed her by the shoulder with his other hand and shook her, and only stopped when he noticed the tears in her eyes.

            "The marriage is a political arrangement, nothing more."  He said, softer and calmer this time, and releasing her wrist to cup her cheek and direct her gaze.

            "What do you mean?"

            "Will you listen?"  He wasn't going to offer her a choice, not really, but it was the correct wording to calm her a little.  She nodded, and his hand slid from her shoulder to her hand.

            "Don't."

            "I simply want to go somewhere private, Sarah."  He said, and waited for her to nod again.  She jumped and pulled her hand away accusingly when they appeared in his chambers.  "It is the only place where my servants would never venture," he said, by means of an explanation.

            "Well?"  Sarah said, trying to be hard but her voice cracked.  Traitor.

            "I signed a treaty with the Erl King – the King of the Elves – to marry his daughter in return for the extradition of my mother."

            "What?  Why?"

            "My mother… the atrocities she has committed against myself and my kingdom – they are innumerable.  The elves have been giving her sanctuary, in a feeble attempt to assure their security – they know I would not attack if they had my mother on their side." 

            Would you attack otherwise? Sarah wanted to demand, but she found herself speechless as another memory struck her. 

            "This used to be the royal castle, but then the Queen went bloody insane.  You can see the damage."  A troll had said it to her, in the middle of a large pile of ruins while she searched the Labyrinth for Jareth's crystal.

            "Queen?" Sarah had repeated blankly.

            "Jareth's mother, is wot I'm meaning.  Always on the vindictive side, never took her to be the homicidal type though.  Rumor has it she killed the King – meaning Jareth's father, acourse – "

            "Did she kill your father?"

            "Yes.  She did."  Jareth closed his eyes, trying not to think about it, but then the argument in the old castle painted itself on his eyelids and he whipped them open again.

            "Why are you marrying her?"  Jareth sighed.  Sarah was no closer to understanding than she had been in the dining room.

            "Because it is the only way to get my mother!  She has been living a life of luxury, out of my grasp in the Erl King's kingdom and I will not tolerate it any longer."  He took a haggard breath to smooth his voice.  "Sarah, marriage is one of the many differences in Above and Underground customs."

            "What do you mean?"

            "Clara has a lover, it is understood.  The vows are only a ceremony, especially to the two of us.  She knows I have no romantic interest in her."  Sarah's eyes, which had been slowly melting, were suddenly ablaze.

            "You want me to be your mistress?" 

            "It is expected, Sarah.  I have no interest in spending my nights with her.  You are my love."  Again, he tried to hold her, but she pushed him away.

            "Don't.  Don't touch me, don't try and tell me you love me.  How can you marry her?  There must have been some other way."

            "Sarah, just because we cannot be married at this moment does not hamper our relationship."

            "How can you say that?"  She was shouting again, she couldn't help it.

            "My people, the Erl King, they all see it is evident that I love you.  They know I will take another, they expect it."

            "Oh, so this is about living up to someone's expectations that you have a whore?"

            "No!"  He took both her wrists then, needing to hold on to her to hold his temper.  "I mean that I love you, and I intend to be with you – no one will care."  He was laying himself so bare before her.  How many times had he said he loved her?

            "I'll care!"  She screamed, trying to twist away from him as he held her tight.  "I care that someone else gets to wear your wedding band!  For Christ's sake, Jareth she'll be your wife!"

            "She means nothing to me."  He growled.

            "You're hurting me.  Jareth?"  She stumbled back but he kept his iron grip on her wrists.

            "Please, understand."  He was begging her.  The Goblin King was begging, what had she done to him?

            She kept stumbling until her back hit the wall, and Jareth took advantage of that fact to pin her arms against it.  He could feel her anger being replaced my fear, saw the tears that had been building in her eyes were beginning to tumble.  Slowly he moved to kiss them away, a kiss against either cheekbone before letting his lips come to hers.  He let her go, and her hands fell to her sides.

            "Please," he whispered softly, touching his forehead to hers, "understand."

            "I understand that politics and revenge mean more to you than love."  She spat.  One gloved hand flew back but hesitated in the air, and in that hesitation she did what he could not.  She slapped him, leaving a hard, red stain against his pale skin.

            He stumbled back, stunned.  One hand was raised to his cheek, touching the raw skin hesitantly – and the other he held before his disbelieving eyes.  He would never hit a woman.  He wouldn't.  What had that traitorous hand been about to do?

            He turned his hand over and over again in the air.  Sarah stood, staring with him for a moment.  How could he say he loved her?

            She fled the room, and Jareth made no move to follow her.