Chapter Two

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Sarah opened her eyes readily, as though she'd already been awake when the voice caller her name, not in a deep and dreamless slumber. Confused, she turned her head slightly and saw a glow in the far corner of her darkened bedroom. Her previous experience with the supernatural had left her wary but not soured on magic, so she sat up quickly but did not scream.

"What are you?" she asked uncertainly, unsure if it could even talk. It was just a ball of light, flickering in the air at about the height of her waist, easily out-shining the tiny lamp on her bedside table.

The glow enlarged itself, shimmering in a revolving pattern, and became a tall, fair man with the darkest green eyes she'd ever seen and black hair tumbling down to his shoulders in the casually tousled style of a medieval knight, such as from any of her favorite movies. She doubted he was here to woo her as such.

She sat there hyperventilating on her bed, eying him with the tell-tale nervous fascination of any maiden that had been toyed with by a certain high-born Fae. But this was not one of the Goblin King's many guises, she was to learn.

"Hello, Sarah," he said evenly, a secretive smile on his lips. His clothing was dark, but too dark--she could make out no details, as though he wore shadows themselves draped around his well-built form. He was broader of shoulders and bigger of frame than the Goblin King, who was svelte and agile as a panther, all lean muscles. This being seemed to loom even more ominously in his bulk, frightening rather than seductive. All this ran through her subconscious and almost made her wish she faced an 'evil' she was familiar with.

"Jareth?' she asked nervously, hopefully, pulling up her knees, unconsciously scrunching into a protective ball.

He laughed, and it was an uncomfortably husky sound, the kind that made her aware of her thin nightgown. His eyes searched her form as though she was naked, and though he did not dismiss her, she got the very clear feeling he was not here to ravish her. Which only partially relieved her.

"No," he said simply. "I am his king."

She stared at him, curiosity as always supplementing her bravery. "Jareth doesn't have a king," she said with a little frown, her brows drawing together in confusion as to why he'd lie about such a thing. "He is a king," she clarified helpfully.

He smiled again. "Yes, he is. But I am High King. And you," his tone went pointed, as though he waved a finger at her, "played a game with him. You won that game."

She swallowed, lifting her chin a bit. "Yeah, so?" her voice wavered only a little.

She blinked and he was gone, and then jumped as his voice sounded next to her ear; he was sitting beside her, his casual ease more naturally elegant than her most practiced posture. "I want to know," he purred into her hair as she shivered, goosebumps rising, "how you won, little mortal. You are different. And I desire to know why." She jerked away at the word 'desire' and shifted around to face him, scooting back to the head of her mattress. Her face fell into shadow but it was no trouble for him to see her clearly.

"Tell me, little Sarah," he said conversationally, twitching his fingers at her in perhaps, accidentally, almost the same gesture Jareth used to use to twinkle his crystals about so beguilingly, tossing out a baited line. "Do you miss your dreaming?" Her eyes flickered up and down, but she found no clues in his expression, in his bearing. "Do you wonder why you have lost possession of your dreams?"

"It's not fair!" she burst out--Jareth had no cured her of her signature phrase. Her passionate indignation flushed her cheeks and she leaned forward, to add emphasis to her words. "He shouldn't have taken them!" Then she shrank back with belated fear shining in her eyes, biting her lower lip, awaiting some retaliatory remark in Jareth's defense.

He tilted his head first one way then the other in time with his words. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. Jareth was quite vague in his wording--I have not yet decided if that is, indeed, fair."

She shook her head. "What do you mean?"

His eyes turned serious above his mocking grin. He did not seem to be capable of true solemnity, but then, it was not his dreams at risk. "It is against our custom to violate our own rules in the games we play with others. If Jareth did not make clear if he took your dreams in exchange or merely their fulfillment...if your were provably misinformed...there is a chance you may have your dreaming back. Though this will never be as satisfying as having them come to life." His dark brows rose briefly in speculation at her, hanging on his every word. "Perhaps it will be enough to be able to sleep again?"

She blushed, fully aware once again of the shadows under her exhausted eyes, her mere humanness against his supernatural beauty. "And...what do I have to do to get my dreams back? Who decides?"

He rose. "Me." He reached out, offering his hand. She stared at it. "Come with me, Sarah."

"The last fairy-person who invited me to follow him almost got me killed." She raised her eyes to his. "What guarantee do I have you'll give them back?"

He shrugged lightly. "None at all. But this will be your only opportunity, Sarah. Make no mistake, my interest is not infinite. Capture what chance you have." Her lips parted unhappily, half-forming soundless words which he correctly interpreted the gist of. "You will come to no harm in my care. And you may return at any time to your world," he promised, which was more freedom than most humans were given. Fae were not above detaining a human indefinitely--many adolescent nobles with the privilege of world-walking but who were just coming into their own paid for the pleasure of using them before risking a jaunt outside their home-world. All that was required was that the visitor had to come willingly, even if 'willingly' was stretched to include 'drunkenly' or 'thought it was a joke'.

But Sarah was a special case. She'd escaped the fire once already--she was far more cautious now than before. She had to be lured in with many visible means of escape. The key was to slowly quench her desire to leave.

He waited with eyes half-closed and downcast, her decision a matter of little consequence to him save for a possible means to an end regarding Jareth. But the decision was everything to her, possibly even her life on the line. The corners of his lips turned up when she finally spoke.

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A/N: Sorry for the long delay. Life. It gets in the way.

Next chapter things will begin to pick up. Had to set the stage, but it will get more interesting soon, I promise! Chapters will also be longer.

Also, I am in no way trying to set up the High King as more sexy than Jareth--but he is different, and as a ruler of such powerful beings, he was to be imposing and dangerous and cunning and yes, attractive--anything less and he'd not be fit to rule. I hope you guys like him, or at least don't dislike him unduly, but don't worry; Sarah is not attracted to him. She's all about Jareth, who confuses and entrances her. The High King merely intimidates her.

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To my reviewers:

LDeetz--thank you for both the review and the clarification, I appreciated it!

Notwritten--hello again! Keep reading, okay?

MythStar Black Dragon--thank you for those nice words! I hope I do not disappoint you.