Darkest Night
Frozen white clumps sprayed up from the ground. Fat flakes rushed by, sharp as tiny razors. Blue-tinged lips parted with gasps of terror. She couldn't feel her feet or her fingertips anymore, and her lungs burned.
She couldn't stop, though. Not with the ominous thunder rolling toward her, drawing closer.
Hadn't she been warned? Of all the times to ignore him. She should have figured the earth would open up and spit her out here; ever since that night thirteen years ago, she found her way into the Underground with particular ease, even when she didn't mean or want to.
Now, she raced through a blizzard dressed in only capris and a t-shirt covered by a long wool cardigan—because in her world, it was a balmy fifty degrees. At least she wore sneakers this time.
Sarah misjudged the depth of snow in front of her and flailed as she sank up to her knees. As she floundered to regain her balance and momentum, she risked a glance over her shoulder.
Her heart seized.
The horrifying shape chasing her closed the distance swiftly. Too frightened to feel the burning cold, too terrified to scream, she scrambled through the deep snow on her hands and knees, choking on a gasp when she hit a small incline and shot down it sideways. At the bottom, her brain sent urgent messages to her legs to get up, get up, getup! Her muscles spasmed uselessly, frozen as much by the temperature as by fright when her pursuer swooped toward her.
Black as a nightmare with eyes of molten gold piercing the night, the enormous horse's silver hooves kicked up snow without ever touching the ground. It snorted through flared nostrils as it circled her, peeled its lips back from large blunt teeth—
—and said, "A human."
Fear and shock manifested as a soundless cloud through Sarah's lips.
"So it is."
The smooth voice jerked her attention to the rider. The wind whipped through his pale hair, and a frosty gaze glinted from the shadows of his brow. Darkness hung from his shoulders, spilling over the horse's back and flank, and his mouth pressed into a thin line.
"But not just any human. What are you doing abroad, Sarah? I thought I made myself clear."
Jareth's patronizing tone banished the last of her debilitating fright. "You can't talk to me like—"
"What are you doing out tonight?"
The air crackled with his anger. Sarah's flare of defiance skirled away with the blowing snow. He'd never spoken to her that way.
"The chickens," she rasped. "A few got out…and there was an owl…"
"We're going to have a talk about valuing your life over that of your poultry. But not this night."
A great clamor arose, full of raucous laughter and underscored by the eerie jingle of bells. Jareth glanced toward the sound, pulling on the reins when his horse turned in tight, agitated circles.
"The Hunt nears." Jareth looked at Sarah again, his mouth firm with dismay. Then, with a growl of annoyance, he reached down a hand. "Come."
She was cold and scared, but nothing in this world, or any other, would convince her willingly going with the Goblin King was a good idea. Ever.
"Linger and you'll either freeze to death or be taken. Both options are far more unsavory than the one I'm offering, I assure you." When she remained where she was, cool amusement entered Jareth's gaze. "Better the devil you know, Sarah."
She grasped his gloved hand.
Jareth hoisted her up with an effortless tug. Twisting her around in front of him, he wedged her between the stiff pommel of the saddle and his thick leather cuirass. With both feet dangling over one side of the horse, Sarah was left with no choice but to lean against Jareth. Her mind spun madly with suspicion and fear even as her body sank into Jareth's warmth when he wrapped his arms around her and his cloak fell forward, partially protecting her from the cold air.
"They come." Jareth's words fanned coolly over her cheek and sent an apprehensive shiver down her spine. "You must act enthralled."
"You're joking."
"Not in this instance." When she opened her mouth to protest, Jareth spoke over her. "How do you think so many humans are convince to ride away with them? They are nightmarish in their true forms. Most of your kind would die from fright before any sport could be had. It's easier to appear alluring than terrifying."
An image of thin, perfectly shaped lips stretching into a teasing smile flashed through Sarah's memory. "Is that what you do? Make yourself attractive so you can kidnap unsuspecting women?"
"I wondered why you kept returning to the Underground. Little did I suspect it was because you find me pleasing to the eye." Coy amusement laced Jareth's words and brushed against her cheek again as he lowered his head. Sarah's hands fisted against her thighs, and she ground her teeth together. "As it happens, I'm one of the few things in my world that is exactly as I seem."
Sarah ignored him as the horse leaped forward. Jareth's arms tightened around her, the reins wrapped around the pommel and the ends lightly flicking against her knee. "Shouldn't you be driving?"
"The Puca knows his way home."
Snow sprayed around them. The laughter and jingle of bells got closer, and Sarah stretched to look over Jareth's shoulder. Billowing white clouds slowly took the form of more than a dozen riders, whooping and hollering at each other. Some were trailed by stumbling forms whose faces were cast up to the horsemen in blank awe. The riders laughed as one figure to the snow then swiftly rose to her feet and chased after the horse she'd been following. Two riders rode tight circles around another woman, barking with amusement as she floundered in her haste to keep up.
Sucking in a sharp breath, Sarah hunkered down in front of Jareth again. "The way they're treating those people…"
"You find it terrible?" Sarah's head rubbed against Jareth's chest as she nodded. "I suspected so. This is why you must follow my instructions. If you don't seem beguiled, they'll suspect. I won't be able to save you."
Then, the riders were around them.
"We didn't think you'd partake in our revelry, Goblin King, but you've caught yourself a nymph!" one of the horsemen said with a laugh.
"Hardly anything so innocent." Sarah jerked her chin up at Jareth's droll reply and aimed a glare at him. "Your enamored expression needs more work," he murmured, lowering his head to hide her face. "There's danger for both of us should they catch you."
"Already whispering love sonnets, Goblin King?" another rider shouted.
Jareth straightened in the saddle with an airy laugh. "She was more difficult to enthrall than most," he said. "Just making sure it lasts until sun up." When one of the other horses neared, Jareth's black steed snapped and sidled away. "I believe this is where I take my leave of you gentlemen. My compliments on another successful Hunt."
Before Sarah could hear any replies, the Puca surged forward. The wind lashed around them, and she huddled farther into Jareth until the horse came to a halt. Frozen to the bone, Sarah numbly followed Jareth into his castle and an all too familiar room. Jareth whipped his cloak from his shoulders with a flourish, tossing it off to one side where it shimmered out of existence before it could touch the floor. Without saying anything, he slouched into his throne, riding crop still in hand, and affected a pose of bored nonchalance.
"What shall I do with you now?" he asked, eyeing Sarah.
"Take me home."
A slow smile curled one side of Jareth's mouth at her demand. "Not this night."
"Are you kidnapping me?"
"On the contrary. I saved you." All humor left his face as he placed both feet on the floor and leaned forward. His eyes narrowed. "We may not get along, Sarah, but when I tell you to do something, know it is meant in earnest."
Sarah contemplated him warily, not sure if she should trust the sincerity in his voice. "So now…what? I owe you?"
Jareth focused on her with cat-like intensity, the riding crop slapping against his leather boot with the same measured beat as a swishing tail. Consternation pulled at his mouth before it tipped into a smile again. "Would that you did. Unfortunately, you didn't ask for rescue, and I freely offered my assistance."
"So why can't you assist me home?"
"The Hunt rides until daybreak. Until then, it's too dangerous for you to be out. As one who never outgrew the Sight, you would be an…intriguing…prize to them."
"The Hunt? Those were the men you were with?"
"Not men, rest assured. They are the Wild Hunt, out making mischief in celebration."
"Celebrating what?"
Jareth glanced away, a faint line of dismay creasing his forehead. "The slaying of a king."
The temperature in the room plummeted. Sarah's words breathed from her in a cloud tinged with frost. Jareth straightened, then rose swiftly to his feet as darkness coalesced in front of Sarah and dripped into a tall being with coldfire eyes.
Before either she or Jareth could react, the shadowy form rushed toward Sarah, passing through her like a ghost and searing her bones with a bite of hoarfrost. Sarah doubled over, a scream freezing on her lips. Icy fingers wrapped around her throat and a cold hand pressed over her heart, yanking her upright.
"Jareth, what's happening?" Raw panic rasped through Sarah's voice as the edges of her vision paled. The chill from the fingers on her throat seeped up her face, bled into her eyes and covered them with a sheen of ice. A sharp, cool finger slid through the flesh and bone of her chest. It hovered over the wild beating of her heart.
"Do not harm her!"
The hold on her lessened somewhat. Sarah gasped at the brief cessation of pain. The haze cleared from the center of her vision. Jareth stood a wary distance away, his mouth an angry slash, but his eyes bright with worry.
A voice not her own crawled up Sarah's throat and coolly whispered, "What would you give to spare her?"
"What would you ask?"
"A life for a life."
No! Sarah struggled to form her lips around the word.
"Not a chance, princess," Jareth said.
"So be it."
Cold agony stabbed into Sarah's heart.
Jareth contemplated the woman in front of him, twisting his riding crop around in his hands, trying to control his temper and not snap the instrument on half. She still looked like Sarah Williams…to the unfamiliar eye perhaps. There was now a severity around her lips, usually soft with the beginnings of a smile, and a coolness to her gaze, normally sparkling with curiosity.
"What a mildly annoying surprise," he finally said. "To what do I owe pleasure of a visit from the Erlking's daughter?"
"You've been taking sides, Goblin King."
"I'm always neutral to the affairs of the Courts."
"My father sees it differently."
"Your father is dead this very night."
Frost radiated from under her feet and across the floor. "A slaying you assisted."
"Winter cannot reign forever," Jareth said.
"Would it be so terrible if it did? The Erlking can be cruel, but he can also be generous." Droll humor entered her voice. "A duality you're familiar with."
"Your notions of how the world truly works are foolish and naive. I've dealt with children like you before." Jareth's expression softened. "Except she grew up into the form you're now wearing."
"This?" She glanced down, distaste thinning her mouth. "This is just a convenient vessel."
"She is Sarah Williams. I'd like to have her back."
"Fallen in love, Goblin King? How unlike you."
"The affairs of my heart are none of your concern. The icicle in Sarah's, though, is definitely mine."
"What if I told you removing it will kill her?"
Jareth scoffed. "In my kingdom? You know better than that."
The blue spark of coldfire in her eyes brightened. "I do," she said, a dangerously sly smile curving her pale lips. "I also know you can bring my father back. A life for a life. You give me back my father, and I'll return your precious Sarah."
"That sort of magic is unreliable at best," Jareth said, shaking his head. "It is only used in the most dire of circumstances."
"You will bring my father back!" The crystalline pattern of ice on the floor became more intricate as her anger grew. "I refuse to go through this ridiculously antiquated ritual another year!" Glassy miniature stalagmites began to twine up from between the stones.
"Cease this childish nonsense!" The frost withdrew slightly at the sharp tone of Jareth's voice. "These are things that must be done to keep the balance. Do you think it pleased me to kill your father tonight? Do you think when midsummer arrives it will be any easier to slay the Oak King? The Kings of the Court are dear friends. You are a spoiled child indeed to think either is more important, since without one, the other couldn't exist." Jareth took a menacing step forward, and fear darkened her eyes. "You will release Sarah, immediately, then you will go back to your kingdom and fulfill your duties as the Erlking's daughter until he is returned."
He saw the petulant tilt her mouth took; that it was an expression he'd seen so many times on Sarah's face did not make it charmingly familiar. Because the Erlking's daughter lacked the innocence Sarah Williams possessed, even after all this time. This woman's spirit added a weight of cruelty to Sarah's eyes and gave her aura a sinister tinge. Had they been in the Erlking's domain, Jareth would be more wary of her and the power she wielded. But the very air bent to Jareth's will here, and no one was stronger than the Goblin King in the center of his realm.
"I promise you, next year will be different," she said softly, menacingly.
Jareth shook his head and turned his back on her, crossing the room to slouch onto his throne again. Resting his chin on his fist, he pointed his riding crop at Sarah's form. "When that time comes, perhaps we can repeat this discussion to your heart's content. Although, I suspect you will be as disappointed with the outcome then as you are presently," he said. "Now, I tire of this game. It's rather boring and offers no real challenge. Release Sarah back to me."
"And if I refuse?"
"Being ripped from a vessel is not a pleasant experience," Jareth said, turning his gaze from her and watching the tip of his riding crop idly slap against the heel of his boot. "At least, it won't be for you. I, on the other hand, will enjoy it. Immensely. Because I promise you, princess, I will make it more excruciating than anything you can imagine."
Before she could do more than stubbornly raise her chin, Jareth was on his feet, across the room again and grabbing her arm. He spun her around, jerked her against himself. Plunged his hand into her chest.
"I warned you," he whispered.
Her mouth opened on a scream she never got to voice. Jareth seized the icicle lodged in Sarah's heart and ripped it out. A high-pitched wail resonated from the shaft of crystallized water. Jareth gave it a mischievous grin.
"You are going back home, princess," he whispered to the icicle. "But not before I teach you a lesson."
"A lesson about what? Is this about the chickens?" Sarah sighed against him and turned around. "Look, maybe you need to fix it so I don't slip through the Veil so easily. It's not like I want to come here." She rubbed her arms. "Anything you can do about the temperature in here? I'm freezing."
A fire sprang up in the center of the room, and Sarah made an appreciative sound, holding her hands out to it as Jareth resumed his place on his throne. A trio of goblins stumbled into the room, letting out shouts of surprised glee when they spotted Sarah. As they laughed and danced around the fire, Jareth contemplated the icicle.
"We will have so much fun, you and I."
He chuckled when it vibrated in his hand like someone shivering with fear.
A/N: I really wanted this to come out around the first day of winter…and here it is, almost the first day of spring…This only took forever to complete, and as short as it is, you would've thought it wouldn't be that hard. Unfortunately, I hit this terrible wall that completely halted any progress I was making with writing. Sucks when RL throws your muse into such a funk, you don't know if she'll ever come back. But here I am, and here this is, such as it is, and I hope you enjoy!