The Witching Hour

He had come to her some time after midnight. The moon had hung low in the winter clouds and the bitter wind had sent prickles of ice through his soft snowy feathers and straight into his bones. Still, he had flown. The Goblin King was after a prize tonight and was no longer willing to return empty-handed.

He knew enough of her dreams to get her to say the words. He had watched her, listened to her dreamy murmurings as she slept, eyes closed, dark hair spread like spun silk on her pillow. He had bent the rules a bit, but then they were his rules to bend as he wished.

"I wish," she had mumbled dreamily. Her head had fallen forward and she had muttered something unintelligible. The Goblin king held a glowing crystal so that it illuminated her face in the dim light of her room.

"What do you wish, Sarah?" he asked impatiently.

Sarah giggled, the dreams in her head taking a ridiculous turn. "I wish," she began. "I wish the pony wouldn't go so fast." She laughed again and tossed her head back, the dreams fading as REM sleep deepened into dreamless slumber. He was losing her. He had to act quickly.

He took her face in his hands and forced her attention onto the shimmering crystal.

"Sarah, tell me," he said and his voice trembled with frustration. "What do you wish about the Goblin King?"

Sarah gazed deep into the crystal, hypnotized by its pulsing light.

"I wish…" Jareth held his breath.

"I wish the Goblin King would take me away right now," Sarah whispered.

With a triumphant cry, Jareth took her hand with one of his. With the other, he moved the crystal back and forth from his palm to the back of his hand, weaving it left and right. The air pulsed with magic as the veil between worlds parted and they were carried away to his castle beyond the goblin city.

Jareth had stayed by her side until she had awakened. He simply had to see her face when she woke and realized where she was. A little shiver of gleeful anticipation had run up his spine when he imagined the tears and tantrums. It would be delicious. He smirked to himself and watched anxiously as the morning light crept over her lovely face and she began to stir. He stared, rapt, as one green eye opened in the golden glow and then abruptly snapped shut again. The other eye opened, blinked, and shut again. Unable to stand it any longer, the Goblin King reached out a gloved hand and touched her shoulder.

"Sarah," he called to her in a sing-song voice. Both eyes opened wide and Jareth steeled himself for the inevitable scream. 3….2…1… nothing. He looked down at her the eyes again and found them studying him coldly. Dark brows furrowed, the eyes narrowed at him and he heard her voice.

"I had damn well better be dreaming."

"Oh it's not a dream, Precious," Jareth cooed as Sarah sat up and took in her surroundings. "Well, it was, but you made it real," he continued.

Sarah stared at him blankly. He took in the sight of her: hair bed-rumpled, eyes, slightly glazed. She wore only a short nightshirt and his eyes followed the long, smooth lines of her legs until they disappeared beneath the bed sheets. Seeing him staring, Sarah pulled the sheets up under her chin.

"How did I 'make it real?'" she asked, annoyance in her tone.

"Why, by wishing, of course," Jareth answered as if she were a child.

'I did no such thing," Sarah retorted. "And don't talk to me like I'm a little girl. I'm not."

"I can see," Jareth purred and Sarah pulled the sheet up tighter around herself.

Snatching the sheet from her grasp, he looked her up and down. He let out a soft sigh of appreciation as the cool morning breeze swept across the room making the peaks of her breasts stand out against her thin nightshirt. Sarah frowned and folded her arms over her chest.

"You disgusting pervert," she spat. "I hope you weren't ogling me like that when I was fifteen."

Jareth laughed low and guttural. "What?" he said. "You mean when you were a coltish little thing with the figure of a wood sprite? Hardly." His gaze grew fierce. "But you have changed, Sarah," he continued in a husky voice, "in so many unexpected and delightful ways."

His eyes bore into her and Sarah shivered. She was already unnerved at finding herself back in this place of tricks and illusions, but now here was her old adversary leering at her as if she were a plate of sweets to be devoured. How had this even happened?

"Jareth," Sarah said, annoyed. "I want to know how I got here."

The Goblin King sat back and tugged at the wrists of his ebony gloves. "I've already told you," he answered flatly, "You wished it."

Sarah shook her head vehemently. "No, I didn't."

"You did, Sarah," whispered Jareth. "Think. Remember."

Sarah closed her eyes and a strange jumble of dreams floated through her memory: a beach, a birthday party with animals in funny hats and a clown making balloon animals from soap bubbles, and somewhere… Her mind reached out into the void for the dream. She had been in her room. It was dark except for the glow of a magic crystal. A voice in the shadows told her to say the words…

"Oh god." Sarah's eyes opened and she felt the urge to be sick. Jareth smiled at her and mockingly kissed her hand.

"You wished yourself away to me," he said coldly. "And don't try to tell me you didn't mean it."

Red hot fury welled up in Sarah and she fought the urge to scream.

"No," she hissed through clenched teeth. "You tricked me. It's not-"

The Goblin King pressed a gloved finger to her lips. "Don't you dare say it," he warned. "It doesn't matter anyway. Dreaming or not, what's said is said."

Unable to control her anger any longer, Sarah lunged at him. She tried to wrap her hands around his throat, but he caught both her wrists in an icy grip and pushed her back onto the bed, pinning her beneath him.

"Don't defy me, Sarah," he growled. "I allowed it once and it very nearly destroyed me. I'll not make the same mistake again."

"What are you going to do, kill me?" Sarah asked pointedly. "I'm not afraid of you, Goblin King"

"No, Sarah, I won't kill you. That would be a tremendous waste." Jareth's eyes glanced over her body again and unable to cover herself, Sarah felt completely exposed to his lustful gaze.

"Besides," he continued, "there are so many worse things than death."

He placed both of her wrists in one hand and used the other to lightly stroke her cheek. Sarah winced beneath his touch. She could feel the tingle of magic in his fingertips even through his leather gloves. It sent prickles of electricity through her skin and deep into her core. Jareth smirked. He knew what he could do, and soon he would.

He had left her without a word. Releasing her wrists, he was through the heavy door before Sarah could respond. She heard a lock click into place and she flopped back onto her pillow, willing herself not to cry. For all she knew Jareth was watching, taking his twisted delight in her predicament. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. Her wrists ached and her cheek still tingled where he had caressed her. Sarah brought her hand up and touched the spot, remembering the feel of his fingers against her skin. She couldn't stop her mind from wandering briefly, imagining the feel of his hands brushing across her collarbone, following the curve of her hip, the small of her back.

Sarah gasped and shoved the thoughts away. "Stupid," she muttered, furious at herself for even allowing such thoughts into her head. This was Jareth, the Lord of the labyrinth, the Goblin King who had stolen her brother and had now stolen her. Sarah shook her head trying to make the sick feeling go away. He had tricked her back into his clutches, back under his power, and this time Sarah knew there were no magic words to save her.

Jareth had tried hard to resist. He wanted to savor his victory for as long as possible. Still, the thought of her crushed beneath him on the bed as she had been that morning had pushed every other thought aside. It had felt so good, so right. In that brief moment that he had held her down tightly and she had looked up at him, trembling with fear and anger, the need for revenge had fled, replaced with only need. He wanted her, desired her, craved her. He wanted to touch her, caress her, to run his fingers through her dark hair. He wanted to kiss her lips, her eyes, her throat, her breasts.

Desire surged though him. He had seen it so many times on her face as she slept, had heard it escape unbidden from her lips as she dreamt. She had called out his name, not in terror, but in want. He could still picture her, eyes closed, rose-kissed lips open in a silent wish, arching up into the darkness. It was too much. He would not wait. He left his private chamber and climbed the spiral staircase to the room where he had left her. Sliding the heavy lock aside, he opened the wooden door and stepped inside the room. The fire in the hearth had died out hours earlier and the room was cold and dark. Under the cover of thick clouds the moon beamed no light through the arched windows.

Jareth turned his gaze toward the large carved oak bed on the far wall. A figure lay still and quiet upon it, but even in the pitch blackness he knew that she was not asleep. He could hear her ragged, uneven breathing and he felt a twinge of pity. She was afraid. She knew why he was there. Jareth shook the thought away and moved toward the large bed, removing his gloves and waistcoat as he walked and dropping them onto the floor. Reaching the edge of the bed, he sat down on it. Sarah lay on her side with her back to him. Slowly, he reached out a bare hand to sweep her dark hair away from her shoulders. He felt her tremble under his touch. His hand swept over her pale, smooth shoulder and down her forearm and he sighed, relishing the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips. She shifted suddenly and turned to face him. Her eyes glistened with tears in the dim light and he could see how hard she was trying to hold them back. Jareth reached out to touch her again.

"Jareth, please," she whispered, her eyes closed. "Please don't"

Jareth sighed wistfully and touched the back of his hand to her cheek to catch the tears as they fell,

"Now Precious," he said softly, "it won't be as bad as all that. Besides, is this not what you've dreamed about?"

Sarah shook her head and tears spilled over her cheeks. "Not like this," she told him.

"My love," Jareth answered slowly, "I know of no other way."

This is a departure for me. I usually stick to the lighter side of things, but Dark Jareth is so alluring. Sarah is no angel here either, though. Don't look for a sweet ending, folks. You'll be sorely disappointed.

Fanny

**My new cover art is called "If I Apologised" by the very talented *saniika over at deviantART. Check out the full scale version here: art/If-I-Apologised-75862222 It even has a lovely song to go with it that seems perfect for this story!