Mornings of Gold (a Jareth and Sarah fanfiction)

Chapter Seven

A/N: This chapter is a little different and strange because 1) it's Sarah-centric [the chapters thus far have really centred around Jareth and I thought it best to shake it up a bit, please tell me what you think!] and 2) nothing much happens; it's sort of a bridge between events.
Anyway. Enjoy! - Luke

Sarah continued to scream for at least three seconds after her feet had touched solid ground, and was only calmed by Jareth placing a leather-covered finger on her lips. She shook in his arms as she came to her senses. Even with her eyes closed, she could still recognise that they were in some kind of chamber or bunker: the air was moist and cool and held the scent of musky earth, and there was no light source that could be seen from behind her eyelids.

    "Are you okay?" His voice sent a sickening jolt through her as she realised where he'd taken her.

    Sarah was back in the Underground.

    "Sarah." He sounded concerned, and this was enough to bring her back into reality. Opening her eyes, she slumped in dismay as she saw she had been right. They were in a tunnel of some sort, lit only by a small, flickering torch at the far end that basically did nothing. Strange shadows danced over Jareth's face, like black flames caressing his skin.

    "Wh-what did you d-do to me..." she stumbled over her words, pulling herself out of his arms and staggering over to the wall to steady herself.

    Jareth had hooked his hands around her shoulders and knees and caught her before she even knew her legs had given way. "Get off me!" she hissed, but he just raised an eyebrow at her as he (impossibly gently) set her down against the wall. He slid down next to her a second later.

    "I take it my transportation methods are not to your liking?" he smirked at her cruelly, but his eyes were kind and pitying. She looked away and shook her head, gritting her teeth against the waves of nausea rolling over her. "How're you able to do that so often?" she mumbled, fighting back the bile that was forcing its way up her throat.

    Jareth shrugged and stretched a leg out in front of him, his posture way too casual for Sarah's liking. "You get used to it if you have to do it day-in, day-out." Something about that last phrase seemed almost bitter.

    Sarah cleared her throat and straightened up a little, the worst of the dizziness gone. She saw Jareth look her over out of the corner of his eye and stiffened. "Why have you brought me back here?" she asked bluntly.

    Jareth stood up with a slight exhale. "I'm showing you why I've decided to live as a human, Sarah." The way he spoke her name sent chills through her, the nature of which she didn't know (and certainly didn't want to find out). He held out a gloved hand, which Sarah gave a pointed glare. Jareth seemed to find this inexplicably amusing, and his chuckle rang out around the tunnel before the damp walls silenced it. "I won't bite, my dear." His crooked incisors glinted wickedly in the half-light, giving a vampiric quality to his face. His pale skin added to the illusion. Who says? Sarah found herself wondering.

    Begrudgingly, she let him pull her to her feet. "Can you walk?" he enquired, his hand finding the small of her back and steadying her. She stepped out of his grip and regarded him haughtily, pretending to ignore the hurt that had briefly flickered in his eyes. "Where are we going?"

    "I'm taking you on a tour of my kingdom," he replied, picking at a fleck of dirt on his thigh, "so you'll understand my motives for leaving it." He turned and strolled briskly down the corridor.

    Why can't he just tell me? Sarah pondered as she set off after him. He doesn't have to make it so damn longwinded. Anyone would think he wanted me to stay longer--

    Sarah tripped and fell to the ground for the second time that day. Upon hearing her involuntary squeal, Jareth looked back. The expression on his face was akin to worry as he watched her spit out earth. She caught him looking and waved off his predictable offer of help, calling out, "It's okay. I guess I was still a little shaky."

    "I could always carry you," he proffered, a sly grin causing his cheek dimples to deepen in a way that made Sarah almost smile back, but she fought it away and instead let out a mirthless laugh as she got to her feet. "Lay another finger on me without my permission and I swear I will give you another bruise to match the one on your forehead."

    "Oh, will you now?" His tone was dripping with barely-restrained laughter.

    "Don't underestimate me, Jareth. It didn't work out too well for you last time."

    "Ah, such defiance. You're so much more interesting when you're angry, you know."

    It occurred to her that this clipped exchange could have been perceived as flirting by anybody else, but Sarah refused to entertain that possibility, however much parts of her begged to disagree. She tended to take no notice of those parts anyway.

    Jareth had started walking again, and was now nearly out of sight behind the curve of the path. Sprinting to catch up, and really beginning to question why she was still doing this, Sarah followed her rival deeper into his mysterious domain.