Rating: T
Jareth/Sarah
Introduction
"Oh, I should go," Sarah whispered as she looked around.
Night bruised the sky with dark streaks of purple. Thick shadows crowded together beneath the canopy of leaves. Gossamer threads of fog hovered curiously between the trees as Sarah began the long trek back to the house.
I didn't realize I'd come so far. She should have listened to the warnings. Hadn't she been told not to wander off in the evenings? She'd thought the concern was about wild animals, but…these woods contained other, unnatural and predatory things, hungrily watching and patiently waiting for her to come closer…
The roosting birds silenced. The wind held its breath even as the trees stirred uneasily. A cool finger of apprehension grazed the nape of Sarah's neck.
"Hello?" she whispered.
Leaves rustled in reply. Sarah whirled on her heel, but couldn't see anything—because there was no dark like country dark. The shadows thickened, becoming blacker than black, and oozed onto the path. Ahead, a tiny face peered around the trunk of a tree…
Sarah shook her head, laughing at herself; the face was a knot protruding from the tree trunk, turned into the bald head of a little man in the growing twilight. Her imagination and the uncertain light were playing tricks on her—
A muffled snicker echoed her shaky laugh. Glowing eyes dotted the depths of the forest.
"Who's there?" Sarah shouted, her voice a trembling mixture of anger and fear. An eerie silence gripped the wood. Sarah willed her heart to slow even as she urged her feet to a quicker pace.
The snap of a twig exploded behind her. Sarah's heart raced up her throat as the flurry of noise neared, grew louder, until it was reaching out to grab her—
The downward slope gave her a wild momentum as she burst into a dead run. Through her fear, a fanciful notion struck her that, if she spread her arms and gave a great leap, she would be able to fly…until the shadows and fog conspired against her lofty hopes by concealing the dangers of the forest floor. A felled branch caught Sarah at the ankles and sent her tumbling. She cried out as she slid across the rocky path, but pushed immediately to her feet, obeying the voice in her heard screaming for her to get up! Getup!Getup!
Because the voracious shadows licked their lips and gnashed their teeth. Her feet barely underneath her, Sarah stumbled forward—
Then came to a surprised halt.
A man stood before her.
"Please, help me," she panted, glancing fearfully over her shoulder. "There's something…someone…chasing…" The fog parted enough to allow a flicker of light through, momentarily bathing the man in silver. "…me…"
Never could she have imagined someone so terrifyingly beautiful. The mercurial light delighted in playing over the planes of his face, made the sharp angles glitter, and turned his flyaway hair into a silvery halo. Shadows lapped the edge of his clothing, darkened his leather coat to blood red, and crawled along the hem of his tattered cloak. He was dreams and moonlight spun together.
He couldn't possibly be real.
His eyes, though, pierced the darkness and pinned Sarah like an insect. The trepidation prickling her skin assured her this man was far more dangerous than whatever she was running from.
"Well, well, well. What have we here?"
Even his voice was wild, like the crackle of lightning or the rich roll of thunder. He took two steps forward, moving as though he accommodated the earth, not the other way around. The icy terror solidifying in Sarah's gut told her to cower; some forgotten instinct warned she was in serious peril.
Ignoring the dread pimpling her skin, Sarah tipped her chin up and looked at him down the length of her nose. The gesture delighted him. His low chuckle ribboned through the air.
"Aren't you a defiant thing." A sharp grin lingered on his lips, and his eyelids drooped with wolfish amusement. "Not the same as the others, are you? No, not at all. Defiant," he repeated, as though he liked the sound of it. His eyes roamed her features, taking in every detail before going over them again to make sure he hadn't missed anything. "Confident, too. And…perhaps a little spoilt?" His grin widened when Sarah's stony expression faltered. "Yes, definitely spoilt. Like a princess."
Anger colored Sarah's cheeks. She barely refrained from snarling at him; she was sick of being called that.
"Not fond of titles?" the man mockingly asked.
"Not fond of nicknames." The waspish reply only amused him further, and Sarah ground her teeth at having been baited into speaking.
"I must say, I find it curious, princess, that you aren't more affected by my appearance." His mouth pulled into a false line of dismay. "Either you're not scared or…" He peered at her again before his arrogant smile resumed its place. "Ah," he murmured, "I see. You're adept at hiding it, but you are afraid, aren't you?"
Sarah refused to answer; she'd be damned if she gave him the satisfaction twice. "What do you want? Money? I don't have any, and my father doesn't make ransom deals."
"You're very interesting." The aloof tone said he only found her so because everything else at the moment was simply more boring. "I had wondered, you know, had to see for myself."
Engaging in conversation with kidnappers was one of the first things Sarah learned about as a little girl; she was supposed to make them see her as a person…
But anger swirled up Sarah's throat and she snapped out, "Was that you chasing me down this stupid mountain?"
"Stupid mountain?" Wispy eyebrows raising, he glanced at the forest as though he'd grown so used to it he never really noticed it anymore. "Is that what you think of this place? I'm rather fond of it, to tell you the truth. And no," he added, piercing her with his eyes again, "it wasn't me you heard. I'm the sort of thing you never hear coming."
He wasn't mocking her this time; it was a frightening truth he gave her. Suppressing the shiver of warning in her stomach, Sarah glared at him as she tried to think of a way out. She couldn't get a handle on what was going on or what he wanted from her. If he was going to kidnap her, he could have easily done so already. If he was going to harm her, he wouldn't stand here chatting with her.
Hopefully.
Evasive though it was, he had answered one of her questions. Sarah was willing to bet he'd give her more if she could pique him into it. "So, what are you supposed to be? A vampire?" Her voice, thankfully, held an edge of sarcasm. She gestured at his odd clothing where the moonlight winked from small, clear gems on the wide collar of his jacket. "I always thought the idea of them sparkling was silly, but I guess that lady was right."
The man's lips thinned further with distaste. "A vampire? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard and, frankly, I'm insulted."
"Well, whatever you are, you don't scare me." Sarah tipped her chin up again in a show of bravado and took a step forward to prove it. He stepped back, shifting so he still blocked her path. "Get out of my way."
He deliberated her words with a finger to his cheek, as though she'd made a request. "I think…not."
"Let me pass or—"
"Or what?" He looked sharply at her again, waiting for her to suddenly do something vastly entertaining.
"Look, buddy, I don't know who you are or what loony bin you escaped from, but there are people down there who are going to get concerned when I don't come back. People with shotguns and shovels, who probably won't have any problem burying your dead body where no one will find it. Ever." Sarah hoped the sly grin curling one side of his mouth didn't mean he could hear her lie. "Now get the hell out of my way."
"Of course, introductions are in order," he said, ignoring her belligerence. "I…am the Goblin King." He gave her a short bow, and when he straightened, he looked at her expectantly.
Sarah returned the expression and kept her mouth shut. First off, she wasn't impressed by his delusions. Secondly, there was no way she would tell him her name.
He let the matter silently go with a smirk holding a hint of approval. "As for why I'm here…" He waved a gloved hand vaguely. "I'm chasing a rumor. They're like butterflies, you know, always flitting here and there, and terribly hard to catch without the right sort of net."
"And this requires you to dress like a medieval fashion victim?"
He glanced down at his clothing, adjusting a glove. A dangerous glint entered his eyes when he looked at her again. "That's twice you've insulted me. Tread carefully, little girl. I may not be so generous as to allow it a third time."
Sarah bristled at being called little girl, but decided to swallow the scathing remark hovering on her tongue at the note of serious warning in his words.
"If you must know, a goblin told me of a sunwoman in the woods. Imagine my surprise at hearing this, since there hasn't been one seen in…" His demeanor altered subtly—the line of his mouth pulled down, abruptly making him appear vulnerable and sad—before he donned his haughty mask again. "Well, not in a very long time."
"Kings, goblins, and sunwomen?" Sarah shook her head. "Are you role playing? Or are you pulling my leg?"
His eyes didn't travel down her body; they slipped over her in a smooth caress, devoured every inch of her from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes, and lingered longer than necessary in between. Standing before him in nothing more than jean shorts and a light sweater, Sarah suddenly felt under dressed.
"Lovely though they are," he purred, "I think there are other parts of you I'd much rather explore first."
The air heated, the temperature spiking so high Sarah felt dizzy. She kept herself together enough to boldly return the favor of checking him out, from his wild blond hair to the toes of his heeled boots…and her eyes had the same problem of getting stuck between his navel and knees…
When she met his gaze again, he was absolutely smirking. The expression made her breathing shallower and her pulse leap, but not from fear this time.
"Do I suit you?"
Hoping the darkness covered her blush, Sarah shrugged carelessly. "Not really."
His lips twitched, but she couldn't tell if it was amusement or annoyance. "Lies," he tsked with an admonishing shake of his head. "You should avoid them in the future with me, Sarah Williams."
"How do you know my name?" Sarah demanded, so shocked and angry she moved without thinking. When he countered with a step back, she pulled up short in confusion.
Isn't that a curious reaction…? Stepping forward again experimentally, she nearly laughed when he moved to keep the distance between them. "Well, well, well. What have we here?" She mimicked his earlier mocking tone and took another step. "Maybe you are afraid of me, Gopher King."
She wasn't sure what made him angry—getting his title wrong or uncovering this little truth—but his nostrils flared, and white lightning streaked through his eyes even as he backed away. Leather creaked ominously as his fingers curled. "I warned you, princess."
Tired and cold, Sarah was done listening to idle threats from some guy who'd decided to amuse himself by trying to scare her. Strangely, she wasn't afraid of him now. He'd appeared out of nowhere, looking like he'd been pulled from some crazy Eighties movie, but he hadn't tried to harm her and had held her captive with nothing more than words.
"Then do something!" Sarah threw her arms out to either side, daring him, and took two quick steps forward, nearly closing the distance.
With the reflexes of a cat, he moved faster than she could track, then glared at her as he drew himself up, collecting his dignity and regal power. "This isn't over."
Sarah almost expected him to pull his cloak around himself, like a blond Béla Lugosi, but he simply vanished between one breath and the next. Walking over to the place where he'd stood, she crouched and inspected the ground. A light dusting of glitter covered the dirt, as though he'd shed rainbows. She reached for it, then retracted her fingers—Lord only knew what the stuff was. Rising and shoving her hands into the pockets of her shorts, Sarah looked around. The insects spoke to each other again, the fog wandered away, and the moon lit her path home. Whoever that guy was, he was gone now. Sarah got the distinct impression he wouldn't bother again—not tonight, at least. Although, his last words sounded as much like a promise as a threat.
He'd be back. Of that she was certain.
A/N: Well and so! I've had a LOT of crazy happen, and all I've really wanted to do during it all is this. So, I'm hoping this jump starts me again! If this feels like part of a larger story, it is. Just trying to smash it together. Enjoy!
