Snow crunched under her boots as Sarah trudged through the woods. It would have been a pleasant walk, if it wasn't for the ever-present barn owl invading her senses. Rustling in the trees. Hopping from branch to branch. Her now finely attuned ears subconsciously tracked his movements overhead.
It was him. She knew it was him. It was always him.
Day and night, he was there. He did not follow nature's rules for nocturnal creatures.
She cursed, picking up her pace. She'd gotten a late start. The sun was going down. It was getting cold. She usually enjoyed taking this route home, but tonight she was annoyed. Annoyed at herself for running late, and annoyed at that damn owl.
Skidding to a halt in a small clearing, she whipped around. "Alright, Goblin King. Come out and play."
The wind picked up, tugging at her hair and nipping under her parka. There was a flapping of wings from a nearby tree.
Sarah pulled her coat around herself and spun towards the offending noise.
"I mean it, Jareth. Stop toying with me. If you're expecting me to say some magic words," she wiggled her fingers for effect, "you're wasting both of our time."
And there he was, emerging from the trees like a predator. The remaining sunlight glinted against sharp teeth as he sneered at her. He wore all black; tight leather breeches, a poet's shirt and leather vest, leather boots and gloves.
"Tired of running, Precious?" He eyed her wolfishly, as if daring her to take flight.
"Running?" Sarah snorted, planting her hands on her hips. Adrenaline coursed through her veins at the sight of him. She did her best to not let it show. "Is that what you think I've been doing?"
He canted his head, appraising her. "You have yet to call upon me—" he smirked, "—until now."
"That doesn't mean I've been running!" she spat, growing increasingly frustrated. "More like avoiding."
He regarded her coolly. "Why?"
She faltered, caught off guard by the simplicity of his question. "Because… because I don't want anything to do with you."
Jareth swept ever closer, a knowing smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Why?"
Sarah let out a long, exasperated breath. "Your very presence invades my space."
"My, my. Such vitriol." He quirked an eyebrow at her. "I fear you give me too much credit, Sarah. What have I done to earn such ire?"
She stomped towards him a few paces. "What have you done? Really? How about when I was fifteen, and you stole my baby brother away. Or, when you drugged me, a child myself. Even better, when you tried to trick me into taking my dreams and—"
"Point taken," he interrupted, holding up a placating hand.
"I wasn't finished," she bit back, casting him a scathing look, "and now, you follow me. Everywhere I go, you taunt me, reminding me of a past I try so hard to move away from."
"I wonder—" he tapped a long finger against his lips, "—why our shared history is so painful for you, if I truly—" his eyes flashed to hers, "—have no power over you."
Sarah flinched. "You don't."
"Yes, yes. Of course," he snapped, losing some of his composure, "I remember. Strong wills, great kingdoms, and all the rest. Tell me, Sarah, where is your great kingdom?"
She straightened and shot daggers at him. "I may not have a kingdom, Jareth. Or magic, or power over dreams, or obscenely tight pants. But I have something you don't have."
He tipped his head as if interested, though his tone sounded carefully bored. "What's that, Sarah?"
She puffed out her chest in a way that she hoped looked braver than she felt. "Love. I have love. Love for my world, and even love left over for yours."
He closed the space between them then in one quick stride. His head dipped low and he leveled his gaze with hers. "And what, do you presume, to know of my capacity for love?"
Sarah wanted to move away from him, but she stood her ground. After a moment, she put a tentative palm to his chest, splaying her fingers near where she assumed his heart to be. Reassured by the strong thrum beneath her hand, she smiled a little despite the tension between them. "While you decay in a web of plots and hateful schemes, the world around you waits."
"For what, exactly?" His words had a harsh bite to them, but something in his eyes and mouth had softened in curiosity.
Sarah gathered his shirt in her hand and looked up at him, eyes suddenly pleading. "For you to feel something, Goblin King."
A silence hung between them as he met her stare and held it. After a long moment, he laid a gloved palm over the hand that gripped his shirt. "What, precisely, am I intended to feel, Sarah?" He traced a circle in the flesh beneath her wrist with his thumb. "Have you considered that perhaps I feel more than you assume I do?"
"No," she responded quickly, startled at the contact, "I haven't. Actions tend to speak volumes. All I have seen from you are villainous power-plays. Meddlings of a trickster god. Bait-and-switch wishes. Dreams on strings."
His eyes became hooded and he pulled away from her a fraction. "Sarah," he started, "I was only the villain you made me out to be. I simply had a part to play. I am not the monster you think I am."
Sarah eyed him suspiciously. "Why is what I think of you suddenly so important?"
He considered her carefully. After a beat, he laced her fingers with his and gave them a lasting squeeze. "Because, Sarah, those feelings you claim I do not feel—" he bent his head down so his mouth was at her ear, "—I feel them for you."
Her eyes were wide when he drew away to observe her reaction. She pulled at her lip unconsciously and her stare darted between his mouth and his eyes. "Wh-what?" She finally managed, weakly. She cursed herself for faltering again.
He smiled warmly at her, and for the first time, it reached his eyes. "You heard me."
She shook her head as if to clear it and fought another instinctive rush to step back from him. "You're confused."
"I assure you—" his free hand slipped behind the nape of her neck, angling her face up to his, "—I have never felt less confused."
He locked his eyes on hers and leaned closer, brushing her mouth experimentally with his own. She accepted, pulling his bottom lip into her mouth, sucking it gently. He tightened his fingers in her hair and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. When his tongue nudged between her lips, she opened her mouth and massaged his tongue with hers. He growled low in his chest. The sound vibrated against her mouth and fingers, snapping her back to reality.
Her hand found his jaw and she pulled him away from her to search his eyes. "You know I can't let this happen, Jareth."
His brow knitted and his lips pouted slightly. "Why not?" He dragged the pad of a gloved thumb across her bottom lip. "We seem to be off to an impressive start."
A shiver ran through her, whether from the cold, or from his touch, or from his words, she wasn't sure.
"I know better than this. What good can come of it? It could only be toxic. We resent each other too much." She stroked his jaw tenderly. "What can we really offer one another? We live in two different worlds."
He huffed, as if the answer was obvious. He produced a crystal from thin air, letting it dance across his fingers impressively. "I can offer you wishes, magic, dreams beyond your imagination."
She allowed a sad smile. "I've outgrown my need for wishes, magic, and dreams, Jareth."
The crystal vanished. His hand gripped her chin and his eyes bore into hers. His voice had a note of desperation now. "How can you say such things? The Sarah I knew lived for wishes and magic. The Sarah I knew turned down her dreams only to save her brother."
She shrugged but kept her eyes trained on his. "I guess I'm just not the Sarah you knew."
He looked crestfallen as he searched her face. "Sarah, I would be your—"
"Don't say it," she ordered, holding up a hand.
"And you could be my—"
"No." She crossed her arms.
He reached for her, begging, "Precious—"
She sidestepped him. "No, Goblin King," she repeated, resolutely.
A laden silence stretched between them as he stared at her in disbelief. For the first time since knowing him, he seemed at a complete loss for words. After a time, he ventured, "Sarah, you cannot honestly tell me that you do not return my feelings."
Sarah sighed. "You're right." She reached out her hand, taking his again. "And I won't lie to you about it."
A shadow of hope played in his eyes and he squeezed her fingers. "But you still insist—"
"Yes." She nodded. "What I feel for you doesn't change anything. This," she gestured between them, "can only cause me pain. I refuse to put myself through it."
"Sarah, I don't understand you. Tell me what you need, and I will grant it." He reached out his free hand to trace her cheek.
Sarah leaned into his touch momentarily before she caught herself. "What I need is a chance to really live my life, Jareth." Her large, green eyes were beseeching. "I need a fresh start without you haunting me."
He studied her for a long moment, taking in her words. When he finally spoke, his voice was smaller than Sarah had ever heard it. "You need a life without me in it." It was both a statement and a question.
She looked down at their joined hands. When her eyes met his again, they were misted with tears. "Yes."
He bent his head, capturing her fallen tears with his lips. "Are you certain, Precious?"
"Yes," She pressed her forehead to his, holding his gaze. "I need a life without you in it."
He gave a sad, slow incline of his head. "Then you shall have it."
She pulled him to her then, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. She nuzzled her damp face into his neck, breathing in the scent of stone and leather, magic and moss. She felt his breath hitch before he hesitantly enfolded her in his arms. He pressed a lingering kiss against her hair. They stood that way for a long moment, both breathing raggedly from the intimacy of the embrace and the knowledge of what it meant. She tipped her head up to look at his face, noticing emotions warring in his strange eyes.
"You know," he smoothed her hair and brushed her lips gingerly with his, "this means you will never see me again."
She bit back more tears and straightened her spine stubbornly. "I know."
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but paused, considering.
Sarah thought for a moment that he was going to plead with her again, that he was going to try and convince her to be his.
Instead, he cupped her face and looked deeply in her eyes. "I love you, my precious Sarah."
She embraced only air then, the wind unable to fill the void he left. She hugged herself as glitter cascaded against the snowy ground. A single owl feather drifted and caught in the breeze before tumbling at her feet. "Goodbye, Jareth."
She fought the urge to pick up the feather. Leaving it there in the snow, she turned on her heel, continuing towards the path. Before she broke the little clearing, she turned and called out into the wind, "I love you, too."
Her voice reverberated throughout the clearing, but only her echo carried back to her. She knew he was gone.
A/N: I may write a follow up to this, but I am undecided at this point. Please let me know what you think. :)
Also, I didn't specify Sarah's age, but she is definitely an adult.
