Being a dreamer is what started all this. Dreaming of a world with magic. Of a life with just…more. Heroes, villains, great quests, and plucky dialogue. So much of her time had been spent dreaming both awake and asleep. It never occurred to her that she was pioneering treacherous terrain.

But soon after her adventure in the great maze, her dreams changed.

Flashes of disappearing blond in the corner of her eye. Occasionally, faint skittering and giggling in the wake of her steps. A crystal floating on the edges of all her mundane subconscious creations. As if watching, waiting.

Soon she became quite used to these small fleeting interruptions in her rigorous routine of fantasies. Not even really noticing how the crystal now hovered over her shoulder like a pet bird as she walked through her dreams. Or when she was walking down the street, and she could barely feel the small touch of a phantom hand briefly laced with hers.

But when she turned 21, everything changed. And she had a dream that would again, change the course of her life in an unexpected and magnificent way.

She's standing in her old bedroom. All the lights are out as she stares at the mirror. She sees no one, but knows she isn't alone. Slow, deliberate caresses trace their way along her body as she parrots old words to her reflection.

"Every now and again in my life, for no reason at all, I need you. All of you."

Should you need us

"I'll call. Thank you, all of you."

Should you need me

"Every now and again in my life, I need you. All of you."

You need me, all of me.

"I need you."

Should you need me

"I'll call."

Call me.

Call.

She awoke with cold sweat and hot blood. A dream, slowly turning into an idea.

For the next several days, she poured over old books in immaculate libraries and dusty occult shops.

For the next several nights, she had the same dream. The small voice becoming hungrier, begging her. The hands becoming more possessive and electric. And every time she would wake up standing on the edge of a maddening precipice.

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Sarah used to be afraid of the dark when she was a child. Always having kept a bright florescent bulb in a dozy pink lampshade lit throughout the night to chase away the monsters.

But now she was an adult, how do you summon a monster?
She felt a little silly, but the logic tracked. If light repelled them, then darkness would entice them.

In a patchwork ritual of her own design, she lined her window sills with meadow-sweet and owl feathers. And in the center of her living room she placed a tall, silver candlestick with a single black beeswax candle smoothly burning. All the iron or steel in her apartment had been safely tucked away. Dressed in what she hoped was a sensible but attractive midnight blue nightgown, she flipped off the light switch.

Shadows were thrown across the walls from the light of the lonely candle. Twisting into eerie faces and shapes that quickly sneered before they hastily vanished. It was an effort to keep her voice steady as she pronounced loudly and clearly.

"As head of this house I welcome thee, Jareth King of the Goblins and Ruler of the Labyrinth, to eat at my table and sit by my hearth." No turning back now.

A resolute exhale killed the last lifeline of light.

She felt him before she heard him, that same arrogant and graceful presence shifting through the pitch to stand right behind her.

"Sarah" his warm breath danced around the sensitive shell of her ear. "You called...?"

She was all but vibrating with excitement as she slowly turned. Looking up into a face she couldn't quite see.

Him, it's really him.

In a dazed voice she confirmed, "Yes. I did."

She felt a strangely familiar leather clad hand gently graze her neck. Lifting a lock of her long, thick hair. She heard his deep, ravenous inhale.

"Your invitation was very specific. But as I stand here I see no hearth, and no food on the table."

Grateful for the darkness hiding her embarrassed blush she quickly muttered,

"Oh. Um, well, I'm afraid I don't own a literal fireplace."

A faintly amused chuckle.

"Hm. In that case I believe, I may be of some small assistance."

A sudden burst of glass and a flash of magic broke against the far side of her living room wall. A massive, roaring fireplace sparking into life out of nothing. Along with a considerable number of plush fur rugs strewn in front of it.

And she beheld the Goblin King, bathed in soft orange light. He was dressed simply, in a deep black tunic and pants, the gold of his office catching a blazing reflection. An even deeper fire burning in his eyes as they devoured her from head to toe.

"That gown leaves something to be desired."

A small stab of irritancy clanged awkwardly in her heart.

"Oh? Like what?" she snapped.

Suddenly, he was very close. Their noses barely touching as he whispered across her lips.

"You."

His arm snaked her waist like a vice as he brought his mouth crashing down on hers in a hard and unmistakably territorial kiss.

The shocked noise that started in her throat left her in a soft whimper as she surrendered. Retaliating by claiming his mouth just as strongly. Biting lightly at his lower lip, her hands shot into his feather light hair and gripped his head closer. Feeding the fire with their old battle of wills.

A deep, predatory growl rippled from him as he reached around her and lifted her by her thighs. Wrapping her around him like a great constrictor. Overwhelmed by the solid heat between them she hardly registered him carrying her easily toward the fire and laying them both down upon the furs.

He broke the kiss to kneel up and look down at her, trying to catch her breath in the firelight. Her dark tresses a delicious mess over the floor as she looked at him with eyes glazed with desire. She tried to reach for him again, but she gripped her wrists and pinned them to either side of her head.

"Ah, ah, ah. I recall there was also some mention of eating at your table. However, under the circumstances, I think I shall elect to take some creative license with the interpretation."

He slowly released her hands, but some force kept her trapped. An answering restraint also clamped around her ankles, holding her legs wide open. A flicker of confusion rippling across her face.

Gripping the décolletage of her nightgown tight he ripped in it half with one smooth motion.

Now fully exposed to him, he took a moment just to bask in her. His breath becoming slightly uneven as he smoothed his hand over her stomach to lightly graze her breast. Running a leather thumb over one taught nipple, a shock wave of pleasure coursed through her. Breathlessly moaning she arched into his touch.

"Yes. You will make a very fine table."

He leaned down to pay some more glorious attention to her mouth as a single finger slowly traced a path from her collarbone, through her breasts, and down her abdomen. Catching the scent, she looked and saw that a trail of chocolate frosting had been left in its wake in the shape of a simple maze. He caught her gaze and raised his finger to her lips in silent demand.

Obediently, she wrapped her lips around it and sucked away the last of the sweetness. His eyes closed briefly for the rapture of her torturous ministrations.

"Such a gracious host." He whispered as he nipped playfully at her earlobe. She small pain was lightning across her senses. He drew his long canines down her neck to the hollow of her throat where his lips and tongue came upon the start of the frosting. From there, the pleasure was simply unbearable.

Holding fast to her flesh like a starving man. The symphony of sensation continued as he followed the path down her chest, around her peaks where he wrung mewling cries from her, and down her belly. Relentless in his choice of destination.

And when he finally reached it, she was sure it was only the magical manacles then kept her from flying off the floor.

One long languid stroke from aft to fore had him groaning in satisfaction of what he found hidden there.

"You taste divine." Was all he said before he devoted the whole of his attention to exploring every treasure of nerves he could find.

It wasn't long before Sarah was thrashing, his arms locked around her legs to hold her in place as she mercilessly rode his face. Phantom hands were everywhere. Running through here hair, teasing her breasts, savagely gripping her ass. Feeling the velvet invasion of his tongue deep inside her was driving her to insanity. Her voice was a choir of helpless moans, babbling demands, and prayers to a god who had no purchase in the presence of the Goblin King. The crest of a great wave descending on her like the sweetest of inescapable deaths.

"Say it, Sarah. Say my name." he growled. And as the wave finally crashed into her with devastating force she didn't say it, instead screaming it to the heavens.

Limp and sated, her throat sore, the aftershocks still echoing through her, she found didn't have any more words. When she finally had the wherewithal to open her eyes again she saw him kneeling above her head with a self-satisfied grin on his face. Had he been a cat instead of an owl, canary feathers would have been sticking out of his wonderfully vicious teeth.

"Everything that you wanted, I have done. Never let it be said that I am a guest who takes more than is offered. Good night, precious thing."

Leaning down he pressed a gentle kiss onto her forehead. The fire and light stealing away as if it had never been. A faint voice near her ear.

And remember, Sarah. Should you need me…

"I'll call."