Jareth stood before the large mirror in his dressing room, distractedly pulling on his gloves while of the more intelligent goblins in his service read from a long scroll pooled around stubby legs. "...Lord and Lady Shardon from Acadia, Contess Melia from Athos, and finally Earl Pennington of Tracos with his entourage - although I didn't write down all of the ladies names."

Jareth turned towards the goblin. "That's all, you're sure of it?"

The goblin shook his head, nervous at having his Monarch's full attention. From most goblin's experience, such encounters usually ended badly with bog duty and painful transformations for the lucky ones. He wiped the sweat from his brow with a trembling hand. "Majesty, I carefully marked each guest as they arrived, plus we've been monitoring the ballroom since early this evening."

Jareth's eyes narrowed. "And you're absolutely certain that Lord Geishal is not in attendance?"

The poor goblin began to quiver with fear. "Majesty, we have done everything in our power to monitor the guest, and have marked every visitor as they arrived. Lord Geishal is not here, I am sure of it."

Jareth continued to stare for a few moments longer, before relaxing and turning back to the mirror. "Good work Squish."

"It's Squelch, sire."

"Squish, Squash, whatever. As I said, good work - job well done - tally ho and all that nonsense." Jareth made a few last adjustments in the mirror before nodding approval at his reflection. "There is one last thing, however." His voice was chillingly light and good humored. Squelch instinctively prepared himself for the worst. "If I find that a certain Lord has mistakenly invited himself to my ball, let me be the first to reassure you. You my little friend will not be forced to spend any unfortunate time in the bog of eternal stench, nor will you have to fear spending any undue time as a deformed pygmy goat."

Squelch offered him a sickly smile, hoping against all hope that all was well. Jareth patted him good naturedly on the back. "No my little goblin chap, you'll not have to worry about anything nearly as painless and easy as that." His voice suddenly transformed to the ice cold intonation that all goblins feared. "You have no idea what I am capable of," he said slowly, articulating every word.

"Now GO!"

Squelch took off like a bullet from a gun. "And don't forget to watch for that damned Vampire!" Jareth shouted after him. Smiling in satisfaction, he congratulated himself on a job well done. "I've always had a knack with lesser creatures," he said with cheer.

Reaching out his hand, Jareth pulled a crystal from out of the air. "Show me Arik Geishal," he commanded. The crystal's surface waivered for a moment, but remained blank. "Damnit," he cursed. "His mind is still closed to me. I will find you though - you can't hold out forever, you cowardly bastard."

For too long, Geishal had eluded Jareth's grasp, but Jareth feared that his enemy would come to seek his revenge all too soon. An event such as this would be too hard for the foppish vampire to resist - let alone such easy prey as Elyssa.

No one truly knew what started the ancient, bitter dispute between the Geishal clan and the Goblin Kingdom...excpet for perhaps Jareth and Arik themselves, of course. Once upon a time - as the gossip goes that is - the two kingdoms had been the staunchest of allies, trading fresh human children to the vampires for all manner of aphrodisiacs, riches, and of course good wine. For the longest of times, Jareth and Arik were the thickest of friends, but then of course that was the olden days. Times were different back then...

What began as a simple misunderstanding between Jareth and Lord Arik's betrothed, quickly escalated into an all out scuffle between the two rulers. What started as a little extra-marital nookie soon became all out war - vampire vs goblin.

Although the war itself was blessed short-lived with little or no bloodshed, irreparable damage was done to the relationship of both kingdoms. Arik swore his own private revenge even after signing the peace treaty against his father's wishes. The centuries rolled on, deepening Geishal's resentment even as it faded into obscurity.

Jareth sighed... so much trouble over a silly woman... who would have thought that Arik intended to wed his own sister. Ah well - water under the troll house, I've always said...

Even so, Jareth wasn't particularly worried about his enemy's guest appearance tonight - he just didn't want to take any chances. At this point, frankly Jareth doubted Gieshal even had the guts to make a move against the Goblin King. And from the reports he had heard, the entire clan itself was weakening due to a lack of fresh blood.

Attack him - not a chance. Not even Geishal was that stupid. But to attack the King's lady....now that was another matter.

Despite his heavy handed questioning, Jareth pretty much trusted the word of his little "Goblin Gestapo." ...for the most part, anyway. The fact that if Geishal did show up, he would most assuredly be disguised didn't escape Jareth's attention.

"Perhaps I should have damned tradition and kept her with me," he mused. Or better yet, to have actually warned her, he thought.

"Show me Elyssa," he commanded the crystal. It's surface shimmered focusing in on the slender beauty, currently dancing with a masked partner. A surge of indignant jealousy surged in his breast. How dare another man touch her!! Jareth almost flew down there to snatch her away right then and there. Just the sight of another man touching her, even for an innocent dance, was enough to send him into a fit of jealous rage.

Just as he began to immaterialize, his colder nature held him back. Leave it to Elyssa to find a partner so easily, he reasoned. He smiled ruefully. The entire male population probably swarmed on her the minute she walked down the stairs. Why did it affect him so, to see her dancing?

Glancing at the clock, a cool evil grin spread across his handsome face. It was just about time to reclaim her attention and make a little entrance of his own...

***************************************************************************************

Jareth was only partially right about Elyssa's immediate command of the ballroom's attention. The moment she walked into the Grand Ballroom, not only did every man's head turned, but so did every female as well - the stares mixed with envy as well as lust.

Stepping down the ballroom stairs, she descended like some fair mythological creature from legend. An ethereal beauty to fantastic to be real, to pure to be so unbelievably desirable. The ballroom's inhabitants, mired in the stink of their own corruption, sensed her purity and innocence like hounds on the scent of blood. Every guest instinctively knew that this one was not to be touched by one of their kind. This otherworldly princess was for His Majesty alone.

As Elyssa made her way to the floor, every eye was upon her marking her slightest move.

The stares didn't bother her, though. Elyssa was used to crowds and unwanted attention. They had become such a major part of her old life, Elyssa hardly even noticed. Entering into an unfamiliar ballroom packed with strangers along and unescorted - she didn't like it, but of course this was nothing a seasoned New York socialite couldn't handle.

Ignoring the following eyes, she steered herself towards a table laden with every type of food and wine imaginable. Honing in on a goblet full of rich red wine, she peered over the rim of her cup while she sipped, discretely assessing the room. Bearing the weight of a hundred awkward stares, she never noticed from deep within the shadows, the dark eyes filled with hatred, tracking her every move like a bird of prey.

Keeping her attention on the swirling crowd, Elyssa soon found herself relaxing, even tapping her toe to the beat of the music. Maybe I shouldn't have mixed wine with Arielle's concotion, she pondered. "Well, too late to do anything about it now," she said, draining the last of her goblet.

Although the songs that the orchestra played were unfamiliar, the basics of music and rhythm remained the same. Elyssa watched in delight as the masked dancers swirled their way through a dance similar to an old fashioned quadrille. She clapped her hands with glee, fiercely wishing that Marcus was there with her right now. Unfortunately Hyrle had kept both himself and her dance partner from attending the ball, saying that their attendance wouldn't be proper or something else along those lines. She didn't really care what the reason was, only that Marcus would love to have seen this. Anywhere she looked, Elyssa was inundated with the richness and opulence of the Underground's Royalty. And yet, she could smell the faint hint of an unpleasant odor - opulence...excess...corruption. Elyssa could see why Jareth might have tired of all this...

"Would you care to dance?" A deep, masculine voice startled Elyssa out of her silent contemplations. Behind her stood a man dressed entirely in black bearing the mask of a raven. Over his shoulders was thrown a heavy cloak covered in black feathers. Like most of the men, his hands were covered in dark leather gloves. From the beneath the mask, fine black hair cascaded down his broad shoulders. The man was tall and obviously well muscled underneath his heavy clothes. Pretty damn easy on the eyes, she thought to herself.

"My Lady, would you care to dance," he repeated. Dropping into a courtly bow, the man caught Elyssa's eye as he straightened. Her breath snagged in her throat, for his eyes were a rather startled shade of violet - most definitely not human.

Mesmerized, Elyssa found that she could not pull her eyes away. "It would be my pleasure," she said, extending her gloved hand.

The dark man enveloped her tiny hand in his own, then gracefully led her towards the dancing throng. Elyssa didn't fear tripping over unfamiliar dance steps - her feet were fare to trained for a blunder like that. In fact, Elyssa didn't fear much of anything at the moment. All she could think about were those violet eyes searing her own. With his hand on her waist, the man skillfully guided her into the dance, his large form surprisingly graceful despite its bulk.

They danced on and on - Elyssa knew not how long. Soon the crowds melted away from her vision, the music faded into a faint whisper. Elyssa was trapped in a pool of violet, drowning in the eyes of the raven. All thoughts were crowded out - for her there was only the dance and those deep, dark eyes.

"You are his lady," he whispered, breaking the silence. "I can sense his claim on you." He lowered his head, inhaling her scent through his mask like an animal. Elyssa shivered. "I can smell his taint on you." From the beneath the mask, the man licked his lips, running his tongue over razor sharp teeth.

Elyssa tried to reply, but the words would not come out. Her tongue seemed to large for her mouth, too clumsy to speak. She was dimly aware that she had to escape....had to get away from this man or beast - whatever the hell he was.

The violet eyes shimmered. "You are his lady, yes, but I can feel your innocence, your purity. It's scent rises from you, finer by far than any perfume. How odd for Jareth to allow such a treasure out of his sight." Again, the man dipped his head to her neck and inhaled. His hand tightened on her waist. All around them, the dancers danced on while the music continued to play, but Elyssa could neither see or hear them. Fear was rising in her mind, but it was too clouded by the violet haze to even know what to fear. Jareth...the name jogged her memory. She remembered that she was waiting for someone...someone was to come and claim her tonight....if only she could remember who it was...

"You were waiting for me, my love," the gravelly voice whispered, further weaving the Raven's enchantment. Elyssa gazed helplessly into his eyes. "I am what you seek." Numbly Elyssa nodded. Yes, of course - that's it, she numbly thought. How silly of me to have forgotten... Somewhere in the depths of Elyssa's mind, a voice was screaming for help - screaming a name....

"Come with me," he coaxed, drawing Elyssa away from the crowds and into the shadow. She offered no resistance, allowing the man to lead her further and further away from safety. Deep inside her mind, the voice continued to cry out. If only she could stop for a moment and listen, she would hear the name...

Elyssa stood still, the dark man immediately rounding on her. "Come with me, my love, before it's too late. He's coming..." His voice became insistent, the dark violet eyes burning.

"Who's coming?" she murmured. The voice inside her mind shouted in triumph ...Jareth...you were waiting for Jareth...

The haze was fading, music and dancers slowly coming back into view. The Raven towered before her, his face grimacing in anger, not used to be thwarted. "We must leave now..." He turned away, searching for the nearest shadow, practically dragging Elyssa with him now.

As soon as his dark eyes left her own, the violet haze was gone. Her mind completely clear now, Elyssa dug in her heels, standing her ground. "Sorry, but I promised someone else a dance, Sir..." She jerked her hand away. "I'd love to go and play in the dark, but that might make Jareth a little bent out of shape."

The man jerked off his mask, his handsome face contorted in fury. Elyssa took several steps backward, eyes searching for the nearest escape route. He had pulled her too far away from the crowd, almost into the awaiting shadow. No one could see her desperate situation. Suddenly, the man jerked his head towards the staircase, howling in anger and fury. For the first time, Elyssa could see the razor sharp teeth hidden by the mask. Terrified, she tried to bolt away, but he was much to quick for that. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her close, again ensnaring her with his eyes. Her heart pounded in her chest, but like before, she was unable to break her eyes away. "Forget," he commanded above the din of the crowd, his voice curling in her ears like a wisp of smoke. "Forget..."

Just as he released her arm, an excited hush fell over the ballroom mob. The word spread like wildfire that His Lordship was on his way moving from person to person in a series of excited whispers.

Released once again from the Raven's grasp, Elyssa blinked her eyes a few times, clearing the haze from her bleary vision. The last thing she remembered was draining a goblet of wine, before everything got a little fuzzy. Momma always said not to mix your liquor, she laughed giddily. Apparently the dryad's tonic still hadn't run it's course in her system.

It suddenly hit her that there was no longer any dancers. From the platform, the maestro made a gagging motion with his hand, silencing the orchestra. All at once, a shower of glitter began to fall from the sky, surrounding the ballroom in a wonderland of sparking lights. Every eye turned to the stairway in anticipation as the tinkling of what sounded like a thousand crystal balls filled the air. Everyone held their breath in awe when Jareth the Goblin King, resplendent in his dark suit, covered in a cloak of royal blue materialized at the top of stairs, regally surveying the crowd. Several of the ladies took out fans and began to cool themselves when he arrived, one young nymph even fainting under the King's gaze. Jareth sought only one face that night, moving deliberately towards Elyssa who still stood towards the back. Even Elyssa held her breath as Jareth majestically descended the stair, capturing the attention and adoration of the people, occasionally nodding his head in acknowledgment to people as he passed by. For the first time, Elyssa realized that Jareth was honestly and truly a king.

The Raven was not just a distant memory - he was completely forgotten, utterly banished and blown away from Elyssa memory. So caught up in the moment, no one - not even his Majesty - noticed how the man slunk towards the shadows, disappearing without a trace.

By now, Jareth had reached the floor, walking straight through the mob. Wherever he walked, people moved out of his way, clearing a path. When he moved through the crowd, women touched his arm, trying to grab his attention, but he ignored them. Elyssa wasn't the only one used to handling unwanted attentions...

From where she stood, she could see Jareth's wake as he walked through the silent ballroom, moving ever closer to her. The only sound in the room where the gentle rustles of skirts and the clap of Jareth's heeled boots. The sound brought to mind a memory, seeing Jareth for the first time and dancing with him at the charity ball. It was funny how strange and out of place Jareth looked in her own world - a world full of rules and logic, with no magic left, and how completely right he looked in his own, surrounded by his power.

The crowd split before her, and there he stood, the air practically crackling with magical energy. Elyssa stood in amazement, holding her breath. Jareth stood before her dressed in the dark blue coat, soft silks, and tight hose that she herself had selected , never knowing how amazingly sex he would look actually wearing them. A pair of kid leather gloves adorned his slender hands, just as she knew they would. His brown/blue eyes moved up and down her body, appraising her looks. For once, Elyssa didn't mind, brazenly making an inspection of her own. Jareth's dark eyes shown their approval. For the first time, Elyssa knew what it was to have some true feminine power. She had known from the beginning that Jareth wanted her, but somehow... this just felt so right. Wordlessly, Jareth extended his hand. Without a second thought, Elyssa stepped forward, placing her own hand into his.

Guiding her towards the center of the ballroom, Jareth wrapped his arms around her, hands coming to rest by her slender waist. Slow, enchanting music filtered down to the crowds ears, filling the room again with sound. Gazing down into her eyes, Jareth began to dance.

A voice started to sing......

Face to face

My lovely foe

Mouth to mouth

Raining heaven's blows

Hand on heart

Tic tac toe

Under the stars

Naked as we flow

Cheek to cheek

The bitter sweet

Commit your crime in your deadly time

It's too divine

I want to bend

I want this bliss but something says i must resist

Another life

Another time

We're siamese twins writhing intertwined

Face to face

No telling lies

The masks they slide to reveal a new disguise

You never can win

It's the state i'm in

This danger thrills and my conflict kills

They say follow your heart

Follow it through

But how can you

When you're split in two?

And you'll never know

You'll never know

The haunting voice catalyzed the crowd into movement. Partners paired up, eager to join the Goblin King in the dance. Elyssa gasped for breath as Jareth expertly guided her, twirling her around in a frenzy. Standing so close to Jareth was intoxicating, the proximity of his body against her own making it hard to concentrate. As they danced, Jareth lowered his head down to Elyssa's neck, kissing the sensitive skin - a tantalizing promise of pleasures later in coming. Excitement and fear coursed through her veins.

One more kiss

Before we die

Face to face

And dream of flying

Who are you?

Who am i?

Wind in wings

Two angels falling

To die like this

With a last kiss

It's falsehood's flame

It's a crying shame

Face to face

The passions breathe

I hate to stay but then i hate to leave

And you'll never know

You'll never know . . .

When the song came to an end, the crowd burst into mad clapping and cheering. Jareth raised his hand in acknowledgment then signaled the orchestra to take over with a flick of his wrist. Turning back, he leaned in close to whisper into Elyssa's ear, a cocky smile on his lips. "How are you liking my little party so far, my dear?"

Elyssa grinned, deciding to play along. "I believe you planned everything quite well, your Majesty. You should send my commendations to your planners."

Jareth's eyes roved over her face and body, admiring his personal tastes in clothing and jewelry. From the way his feral eyes gleamed, it looked as if he planned to devour her where she stood. "Have I told you how beautiful you are tonight?" His voice was deceptively calm - even playful. Elyssa's knees weakened, turning to jelly under the weight of Jareth's gaze. "I'll try to make the formalities as short as possible so that we can continue with the true business at hand."

Jareth turned and placed her trembling hand upon his half extended forearm. "Shall we," he murmured, leading her through the crowd.

...Hand on heart... guard your soul...under the stars...naked as we float...

The words to the song echoed in her mind. It would be so much easier to give in completely tonight, but what would that leave her with when Jareth eventually tired of her as she feared he would. No, Elyssa was determined to keep a solid wall of defense around her heart tonight. Jareth might take her, pleasure her, make love to her - there was nothing she could do to stop any of it. And as the night waned on, she began to realize that she didn't want to stop him... But, she had to guard her heart.

Eventually, Jareth directed them towards a richly dressed portly man surrounded by several scantily clad young women. He wore an extravagant embroidered red coat that reminded Elyssa of something an old English general might wear, covered in a wide golden sash. His sported two twirled mustachios, and a thick grey beard. The women that surrounded him were taking turns running their fingers through his beard or toying with his mostly bald head. As soon as the little man spied Jareth, he pushed their hands away and darted forward. "Hullo your Majesty," he said excitedly, ducking his head in an odd little bow. "Splendid little soiree you've thrown." Noticing Elyssa on Jareth's arm, he eyed her curiously.

Jareth regally inclined his head. "Duke Atherton, a pleasure as always. May I present the Lady Elyssa D'Artagnan, my personal guest."

The Duke kissed Elyssa's outstretched hand. "A human," he exclaimed, raising his bushy eyebrows in surprise.

"No, a New Yorker," she jibbed, forcibly removing her hand from the Duke's grasp.

"Ah," he rumbled wisely, nodding his head as if he understood. "A New Yorker." Atherton shook his head. "So Jareth, my good man. Have you studied my proposed trade agreement regarding the new levy for barley and wheat exchanges?"

Jareth shook his finger, an amused grin spreading across his face. "Not tonight, you old codger. Business is a substance only consumed by day. The night is reserved for much... sweeter pleasures." His eyes danced mischievously as the caught Elyssa's. She silently prayed that her cheeks didn't burn. "Besides, Atherton. I see you've got a good start on the pleasures already by the look of it."

The Duke laughed uproariously, squeezing the two closest females against him "Oh yes, I've got a few fine fillies running about. But I'd be willing to trade the whole lot o'them for a few moments alone with that lass." He inclined his head towards Elyssa.

Elyssa wasn't sure if the Duke was only joking, or making an insult. Regardless, she popped in before Jareth could make a reply. "The idea is tempting, I have to admit, but I don't think you would be able to handle the job all by yourself."

Atherton bristled. "I've pleased for more than just a single lass in my day, Thalif." He grabbed his crotch, eyeing her lewdly. "And I'm sure I've got plenty here to handle the job."

Elyssa smirked, well used to handling male assholes impressed with the size of their johnnies. "Oh, I'm sure you think you do - but let's say you don't. Now how do you suppose those precious trade talks of yours will go when everyone knows you couldn't please the King's Lady, hmm?"

The Duke's eyes blazed with anger which quickly died away. He roared again with laughter, patting Jareth on the back. "Oh, she's a wee spitfire, my Lord, she is." He wiped a stray tear from his eye. "If you ever manage to tame her Jareth, be sure to send her my way."

His laughter followed Jareth and Elyssa as they slipped back into the crowd. Jareth's silky voice whispered in her ear, tickling the fine hairs on her neck. "Gods, who taught you to speak like that? You're a born diplomat, my dear. I haven't seen that fat bastard laugh like that in a bloody century. We might actually have scored some leverage with him tomorrow."

Elyssa smiled, his unexpected praise bringing color to her cheeks. She had half expected Jareth to be angry with her... "I'm glad you think so. My temper is good for some things - who knew."

He touched her cheek with one gloved hand. "Just don't try that tactic with the elves..."

************************************************************************

After making social calls to the elven royalty which, Elyssa later decided, wasn't nearly as exciting as it sounds, Jareth made a pit stop by a group of richly dressed older women. He introduced them as the Hackney clan - a group of old succubae (that's plural for succubus, for those who don't know), too old to ensare unwary men. Instead, the Hackney sisters traveled from ball to ball, occasionally getting lucky with a few of the local lushes.

There were still several important social visits Jareth needed to make, but Elyssa was itching to dance, he could tell. Looking down at her, Jareth changed his mind. For the first time, Jareth noticed how the dryads had woven tiny seed pearls and roses into Elyssa's soft curls before sweeping it up on top of her head, displaying her elegant neck. Jareth ached at the thought of running his fingers through those curls, freeing them from the braids. He imagined what it woudl look like spread out across his pillows tonight...

Suddenly, playing at politics was the last thing on Jareth's mind.

Elyssa glanced up and noticed Jareth staring. "What are you looking at?" she said softly, the feeling of his eyes not at all unpleasant.

"I was only wondering why the Queen of the Ball is not dancing," he murmured, completely serious.

"Probably because this King is too busy playing the social butterfly to ask," she teased.

"Then the King should be punished for neglecting his duty," Jareth said solemnly.

Elyssa looked up at Jareth through lowered lashes, unable to take the intensity of his gaze. "And what, pray tell, is the punishment for such a heinous crime?" she said, her voice demure. The words were only jest, yet she could sense the underlying innuendo.

Jareth shocked her with a feather light kiss, caressing her lips with his soft leather glove. Gods, this was going to be enjoyable, he realized. Already his passion was kindled, ready to consume them both. It would be so easy to carry her up to his room right now...

Patience, his mind barked. You've waited too long to lose control now... Jareth looked down at Elyssa and saw that she was watching him. It was all too easy to see the fires that burned in her own eyes, the first true kindlings of passion. Smiling, Jareth caressed her cheek with one hand, the other moving to her waist. "Let us remedy the situation, my love." Effortlessly, he guided her to the dance floor.

Moving as one, their eyes locked on each other. Surprised by her unexpected desire, Jareth suddenly realized that keeping control over his own desires might not be as easy as he anticipated. Originally, the ball presented a golden opportunity to not only mend the failing bridges between himself and the other kingdoms, all the while easily seducing his young captive.

Having Elyssa so close, her small body pressed against his own... Jareth's resolve was crumbling, politics and trade be damned. There would always be tomorrow for such foolishness...

Just as Jareth was about to pull Elyssa away from the crowd, a face caught his eye. Standing towards the back of the room in a crowded corner, a dark haired woman was staring defiantly. She wore a black hoop court dress, ornately adorned in jet and onyx. In her hands, Elyssa would have recognized the mask of a Raven.

Jareth stopped dancing, carefully keeping Elyssa's back to the woman. "My dear, I must make one last little visit before we can retire. Would you be a dear and fetch us both a glass of wine, then meet me on the terrace outside? I promise I won't be but a minute." His voice was cool and collected as always, not betraying the sudden swell of anger he felt inside.

The thought of leaving with Jareth sent a thrill of nervousness in her soul. Biting her lip, Elyssa agreed. "As you wish," her voice trembled slightly. Turning, she disappeared into the crowd, swallowed by the masses.

As soon as Elyssa was gone, Jareth stalked towards the woman waiting in the corner. The delicate features of her face slid into a malevolent smile, a trait made famous by the Geishal clan. Her low voice welcomed him as he approached. "My Lord Jareth, how good of you to come and visit the most lowly of your guests."

Jareth resisted the urge to smack the smile from her pale face. "I don't recall sending you an invitation, Nadia, but I see little formalities like that didn't stand in your way." Jareth's voice remained calm and even - a model of courteous discourse. Taking her arm, Jareth steered Nadia away from the other guests. "Did your brother decide to pay me a social visit too, sweetling?"

Nadia pouted, revealing a pair of razor sharp teeth kept hidden by her lips. "Arik doesn't find any pleasure in dances or parties anymore - especially yours." She reached her hand out to caress Jareth's face, but he swatted it away as if it were an annoying gnat.

"I'm not in the mood for your games, Geishal," she spoke the name as if it were a curse. "Tell me true, is Arik here?"

Nadia laughed - a dark, deadly sound which spoke only of death and decay, the sound of Autumn's leaves blowing in a chilly wind. "My, my, Jareth... Your time away from society had done nothing to improve your manners. And to think, you once cared for me."

Jareth grabbed her arm, painfully pinning it behind her - eyes blazing with fury. "I've had enough of your talk tonight, Geishal. I will ask you one last time before I lose my temper." He voice still remained amazingly civil, but there was a chilling undertone that Nadia knew and hated. "For the last time, is Arik..."

"Of course he's not here," she cried out, her eyes welling in tears. "Arik is terrified of you - do you think him a fool? He would never..."

"I believe I know what Arik is capable of." He replied curtly. Jareth knew better than to fall for the vampiress' game of tears and feigned weakness. "Which is why I know you're lying."

Nadia suddenly lunged forward, throwing her free arm around Jareth's neck, kissing him squarely on the lips. Jareth was so surprised, it took him a few seconds to even know what was happening before heaving her off in disgust. He splutterd, wiping at his mouth.

From where Nadia lay sprawled on the floor, she began to shriek with laughter. "What in the seven hells do you find so funny?" he demanded.

Nadia pointed towards the staircase behind him. Jareth turned his head just in time to see the swirling fabric of Elyssa's retreating form. "Oh silly me," the wretch giggled. "I think I've made someone jealous."

Damn... Jareth closed his eyes, taking a few measured breaths before disappearing. Nadia continued to cackle in delight -- that was until she realized she was no longer in the ballroom, but in a forgotten dungeon somewhere in the bowels of the castle.

"Piddle," she sighed. This was going to be a long night...

************************

A/N: Just as a warning, the next chapter will contain R rated materials. If it offends you, please stop here - read no further.

...to be continued