Chapter Eight

Tara woke up with the worst headache in the history of mankind. She was in so much pain that it hurt to try to remember what had happened the night before. She scowled at the false moonlight as it poured in her window, and rolled over on the bed, closing her eyes-- gently, so as not to worsen the migrane. Thankfully, she was alone, and she assumed that she would be for the duration of the pain. She covered her head with the pillow, moaning quietly as something poked at her tender brain. She gripped the soft object as the pain gave way to the thing, and she was left numb.

She blinked a couple of times and sat up, rubbing her eyes, and trying to remember the night before. The ball... her brother... he had been making her think strange things but... but Jareth interfered... so angry... and then..." Her eyes widened in sudden realization, and she lept out of the bed despite how her bare legs protested. She didn't notice the cold against her skin until she was examining her neck in the mirror, where two small puncture wounds decorated the white over her vein.

Her eyes traveled downwards, and her eyes narrowed as they rested momentarily on the swell of her bare breasts. She had been undressed before she was put to bed.

"Good evening." Jareth hissed silkily, so closely to her that she leapt nearly a foot in the air, and stared at him in utter horror as he stood not a foot away from her. "I trust you slept well?" He wore a cocky smirk as she tried to take a step back, but his arm shot around her waist, crushing her again to him.

She instantly faught to free herself, her nudity not helping her case as he merely smirked down on her, but she was weakened by the previous migrane. "LET ME GO!" She shrieked, the image of how he controled her by adding his own dishonorable lust to her own unavoidable attraction to him. She remembered what he had done to her in that brief time of submission, and it wasn't going to happen again.

"Oh do struggle," He purred arrogantly, "It isn't entirely unpleasurable..."

Her eyes widened at the pure gall of his words, and she stood deadly still, blinking as he held her. He laughed, chest heaving against her, and she bit her lip to stop the way the simple motion was making her feel. He merely grinned at her reaction, causing her to hide her face in his chest in sheer embaracement.

"You never answered my question." He stated, "Did you sleep well?"

"Fine." She muttered lowly, just wanting him to shut up and leave her alone.

"Mmm..." He chuckled, leaning her into him as she blinked distractedly, biting her lower lip to stifle a moan that had been completely unprevoked, but not born out of nothingess. A seering jolt of sharp pleasure shot through her, orginating from where his now bare hands gripped the squall of her back. Vaguely she wondered where his gloves had gone, but it wasn't the most important thing one could contemplate at the moment. He smirked knowingly as he looked her over, "You look uncomfortable, Tara. Perhaps if I were in the same--"

"No--" bit out an argument instantly, but instantly was too late. Suddenly, she felt skin pressed against every inch of her own skin, and she was overwelmed by the sensation flooding her thoughts. She groaned discontentedly as she clawed at some sort of cloth to latch onto, but it was useless. It wasn't long before she was out cold again.

When she woke again, she found herself in the same bed she had been in perhaps fifteen minutes before, but the pain was entirely gone, and she was dressed now. For a moment she wondered if it had been just a dream, but as she stared at the arrogant smirk across the lips of the Goblin King as he spoke to the fae advisor before him, Damien, she knew it wasn't. She groaned mentally, but could not manage the feat of actually making the sound. Neither could she hear a word above her.

"You did -WHAT-!" Damien cried, frantic as Jareth explained to him what had happened the night before over Taras drugged up form.

"Calm down, Damien." Jareth growled, turning away from both of them to glare out the window at the moon, hands knit in his hair on the back of his head as if reclined. "I'm worried enough by myself."

"But Jareth!" Damien darted around the bed to stand by his side, staring up at his seemingly much bigger form in shock and horror. "YOU -BIT- THE GIRL!" When Jareth didn't respond, he growled, and gave him a shove he knew wouldn't effect the king. "JARETH!"

"I am your lord," He growled, turning toward the younger fae, "And you will adress me as such! Is this understood!"

Damien backed up as if he had been slapped, causing a moment of guilt in the almighty goblin king before he turned back to the window. "I have the matters under control. I will train her in the ways of the vampire. She will become a stronger weapon than any of the past," He paused to look back at the man, devilish eyes glittering, "And she will last forever."

Tara groaned as her hearing began to come back to her, in the form of a dull buzzing sound. She felt like she wanted to die as she lay there in that bed, watching the painful confrontation between advisor, and king-- but over that, friends.

What kind of a king was Jareth that he hurt his friends?

She turned away from them as he turned to look at her, thanks to the sound she had made. She didn't want to look at the monster that had aroused such-- such -feelings- before she realized what he was. For the first, though she knew it wouldn't be the last, time, she wanted to go home.

She flinched away from his soft touch as he put a hand on her arm, causing him to frown, though he changed it instantly into a displeased scowl. Who was she to deny him? In a rage, he clamped his hand down tightly on her arm with a grip that should have hurt her, should have bruised her-- but the pain was minimal. A tingle, if that. Meant only to prove that he was in charge.

She could still feel his gaze on her back as he ordered monotonously for Damien to leave. She wanted to get up, to protest, but she couldn't move.

She watched Damien leave in silence, because she couldn't speak. The look of sorrow and pity that crossed his face as he left their presense burned her deep inside. She knew it was meant for her, and that scared her in a way she didn't want to face.

But she was forced to. Jareth pushed her onto her back, and climbed on top of her, blonde hair wild over him. Rage, and lust weren't the only things she could recognize in his eyes, but she dared not examine the rest. "Allow me to explain something to you." He growled as he stared down, into her. "I am your master now, in so many more ways than one. You -will- obey me."

She wanted to spit in his face. She wanted to slap him. To throw herself upwards, and bruise that over inflated... ego of his. But she couldn't move. It was as if her muscles had staged a mutany, and won. Tears built up in her eyes as she realized what was happening.

He was controlling her. Pulling her strings as if she was a puppet, and watching her dance.

"Now," He growled, eyes still boring into hers, "Is this clear?" Her head nodded against her will, and he smirked at her.

"I hate you." She whispered, but he leaned over her so their chests were pushed together, his lips tinglingly close to her neck as his breath washed over his ear. He was being so viciously kind the tears rolled over Tara's cheeks, and he kissed them away with all the gentleness a man has for his lover.

"I know." He finally whispered to her, nuzzling into her ear, "But I expect that will change in time."


Authors Notes: Disclaimer thingy! I do not own Jareth, and am not doing this for a profit-- I'm doing it because I have way too much time on my hands, and because I like the reviews that I'm not getting. -hint- -hint-

No, I didn't forget about this story, I just got a temporary life. Heh... lol, yeah. Just review, please?