Sitting under the mistletoe
(Pale-green, fairy mistletoe),
One last candle burning low,
All the sleepy dancers gone,
Just one candle burning on,
Shadows lurking everywhere:
Some one came, and kissed me there.

Tired I was; my head would go
Nodding under the mistletoe
(Pale-green, fairy mistletoe),
No footsteps came, no voice, but only,
Just as I sat there, sleepy, lonely,
Stooped in the still and shadowy air
Lips unseen - and kissed me there.-Walter de la Mare

"Tell me, why does this tea taste so strongly of mint?" The Goblin King made a nasty face at the steaming cup.

"It's peppermint tea." Sarah shrugged. The woman stood in the corner of the kitchen watching her royal guest. He didn't notice her scrutiny, or he didn't mind it perhaps.

"How awful," was Jareth's droll response. With a grace born of disdain the king set the cup aside and slouched in the tiny wooden chair. Funny, it had never seemed tiny before, Sarah thought. The king did not look at her, but his gloved fingers came up to rest against his lips as he glared down at the gay little tea cup. Perhaps he took personal offense to the beverage.

"Do goblins not like mint?" She asked cautiously.

"How ever should I know?" His ice chipped eyes flashed to meet hers."Do you think that I am a goblin?" Now she knew she'd offended his grace.

"I umm, well. I suppose that I've never thought about it." She surely hoped not. A change of subject would be good, Sarah decided.

"Do you know the story about the Princess and the Goblin?" Sarah asked jumping to the first topic that surfaced in her mind.

An eyebrow shot skyward.

"Well, this princess, um well she lives in a castle and she isn't' allowed out after dark because the goblins come out...she has an invisible string that her dead grandmother gave her...the goblin prince was going to force her to marry him, but she stepped on their feet."

"That's a terrible story." Sarah heard his voice fade, she felt the shift in the air as he winked out of existence. Had she had the time, she would've looked around to see if he appeared elsewhere, but the sudden darkening of the air above her, the instinctive desire to hug herself even closer to the countertop, bespoke the new position of the goblin king.

Jareth towered over her, head tilted, arms locking her into place in her little corner. The countertop was eating into her back as his scent washed over her, clean and crisp. He was all around her, but nowhere did his body make contact with hers.

"Sarah, did you summon me here to listen to absurd stories and drink subpar refreshments?" Humor hummed across his words.

Why had she brought him here? Why now? What was she supposed to say?

"I couldn't help it." She replied, shocking herself.

"Oh." A wolfish grin settled on his mouth. "I didn't realize that was an acceptable excuse."

Tension tightened Sarah's stomach. Her round eyes sought the warning in his. She steeled herself. Her breath caught as she suffered through the long seconds that it took for his body to inch ever closer to hers. His lips hovered over her own.

"Would you care to play a little game with me, Sarah?" He whispered, she could smell the peppermint from the tea he had been sipping.

All rational thought deserted her. She didn't know for sure what she wanted from him. But, she could not pass up the chance to find out what it was.

"Yes."

Again, my posts may be short for a bit. I just want to keep posting something, it is good rehabilitation for my poor injuried pinky. Forgive typos for the time being please (pinky problems).

By the way, in case you are interested, I am currently obsessed with Ryan Adams' cover of 1989. That's what I am writing to...not very Christmasy is it?