Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.
Summary: The Goblin King returns every year to reclaim what is his.
It was the middle of December.
Sarah had spent the day trudging along the icy streets of the town, looking for presents. She had managed to find a limited edition comic for Toby - his latest interest. A luxury bath-set that would satisfy her stepmother, or at least maintain their somewhat awkward friendship, and some gardening tools for her dad were moderate successes. All in all a productive trip but now she was looking forward to a hot drink in front of the fire. Her hands were frozen where they gripped the numerous carrier bags. She had forgotten the damn gloves again.
He was waiting for her as she walked up the front path.
Her house had a front yard instead of a rear one and amongst the frozen apple trees, she spotted him. She had only lived here ten months, and the sight of the little cottage stilled filled her with pride after the years spent in cramp city flats. They had worked hard on the garden through the summer so that it would weather the winter with dignity and bloom again come spring.
Sighing she dumped the bags down on the path and, as casually as she could, strode over the lawn to reach him.
"I'm freezing you know." Sarah rubbed her hands together as she took in his fur-lined cape and boots.
"Perhaps you should wear gloves when you are out, I certainly would." The Goblin King smirked. He was leaning casually against a tree, looking entirely comfortable, his fair hair gleaming in the snow.
"Last time you came in the summer." Sarah stomped her feet to warm them and glared at him.
Jareth ignored her comment, "You have a new home, no doubt you have a roaring fire in there to warm you up when we are finished."
"And again Jareth, you cannot have it." Sarah spoke good-naturedly. It was the tenth year they had played this game and the childish frustration she had had at seventeen had worn off around the beginning of her twenties.
"A most predictable answer Sarah."
Sarah rolled her eyes, "Can we continue this discussion indoors if it is to take as long as usual."
Jareth stared at her silently for a moment and then smiled. He laughed at the dark-haired woman's reaction,
"There is no cause for alarm Sarah."
"The Goblin King smiles at me and I should not be afraid?" Sarah laughed herself, "Is this a new trick to help persuade me to part with it?"
Jareth smiled again and for a moment Sarah glimpsed the genuine pleasure in his face,
"A final trick Sarah," he paused, surveying the young woman before him, "You may keep it."
She looked so different now, and yet so much the same. The long dark hair, eyes the colour of a misty river, but she had matured, and she would continue to mature. She would age as mortals did. Soon lines would appear around her eyes tracing the years of laughter and happiness ahead. In the years to come, she would truly look different to him.
Sarah started disbelievingly at him then placed her hands on her hips, "Ten years of coercion, tricks and threats and now I may keep it?"
Jareth looked suitably wounded "I have never threatened you."
"Oh really? So "give me the book or I will tell Toby" is not a threat?"
Jareth grinned, "Ah Sarah, I am forbidden from appearing to recovered children you know."
"You are insufferable."
"As are you."
A silence fell between them. The eternal King and the mortal woman both staring through the drifting snowflakes as if to ascertain what the other was thinking.
At length Sarah opened her mouth to speak. The words stuck momentarily leaving her gaping. There was so much yet so little to say. His presence over the years, had steadily become less disconcerting but his beauty never had.
Her dreams had never changed.
The Goblin King did not look surprised but merely tilted his head and waited.
"I'm married now." Sarah held up her hand to show the pale gold band.
Jareth smiled again, "As am I. And so our path has come to an end."
Sarah's throat felt strangely tight for a moment. Ten years of visits.
Gone by in a blink.
She thought hard before speaking, "I wish you well."
And she meant it, as much as she could mean such words to the elusive figure whose changing perception had represented her growth from teenager to young woman.
Jareth inclined his head, "And I to you, Sarah." He drew his cloak about him and stood straight up.
Sarah sensed he was about to leave, she could always tell.
"Did you really need it back?" the words were out of her mouth before she could think.
Jareth raised his eyebrows and smirked the ever-infuriatingly smirk of his,
"Of course I did Sarah." and then he turned fully and was gone.
Sarah stared at the empty space. There were no boot-print in the snow. Nothing to suggest she hadn't imagined the last ten years, except the resounding memory of his smirk.
She made her way back to the path, gathered up her bags, and headed for the door.