Prologue
Sarah wandered a dark corridor, lit only by moonlight. She was alone and confused. Every step she took seemed to put her right back at the beginning of the hallway, no closer to the door she sought. Voices filtered through the night air, urging her on - pleading with her to make the choice, to embrace her true nature. The door opened and a bright light beckoned her to it, pulling her closer to it even as she struggled to stay where she was.
"Come to us, Sarah," the voice called. She tripped in her hurry to run to the door, but suddenly she was falling, falling, faster and faster as the faces she loved appeared in her mind. Her father begging her to stay with him, Jareth holding out a hand to beckon his Queen. New voices, of grandparents she'd not yet met, urging her to come home and take her place with them. She was dizzy, spinning through nothing, looking to find something real to hold onto and finding empty air and silent moonbeams.
She was going to crash, she was going to shatter on the ground like glass. She screamed, racing to the ground in a mad rush of lights and colors until finally, she was swallowed by the ground and all was silent.
Sarah sat up quickly, drenched in sweat. The dreams were coming more frequently now, ever since she'd returned from battling her aunt. Was this more dark magic? She had no way of knowing. Sighing, she reached for her robe and made her way down the hall to Jareth's room. He wasn't there of course, he'd returned to the Goblin Kingdom the night before, to reclaim his kingdom and show the goblins he was prepared for their mayhem.
She relived their goodbye as he had met her at the gates of the High Court, dressed in full battle armor. She'd been panicked until he laughed and kissed her nose.
"Just a reminder to the little heathens that I am more than a match for their devilry, Precious. I've no wish to rush into another battle so soon. My Queen would never forgive me for being so rash."
"Damn straight," she'd muttered, jumping up to grab his head and fiercely kissing him like he was going off to war, like she'd never see him again. He reveled in her touch for long moments, groaning as she'd let hands wander, let her tongue glide so effortlessly into his mouth.
"I can only hope your hello is as exuberant as your farewell," he leered. She'd blushed, noticing the onlookers grinning at her. Damn.
Now, as she crept into his chambers, she made her way to his large, empty bed and jumped in, pulling furs over herself. They smelled like him, like wind and rain and magic and something uniquely Jareth. She allowed herself a small smile as she drifted asleep.
The nightmares would not dare touch her here.