And then there was silence, but for a voice sighing mournfully from another world. "Such a pity…."

She looked around her. What had happened? Where was home? Were was the comforting surroundings of the mediocre life provided by a mediocre family? All she could see was a darkened room, too cold to be a dream, her breathe fogging in the little light provided by a single candle.

"You thought that a few lines out of a story book would save you, Sarah?" came a voice, his voice, behind her. Or was it to the left? When she turned around, she could see no one.

"You made me Sarah. Where would the fun be if I were defeated so easily?" His voice murmured again, and she whipped around, trying to see him. Again, she saw nothing save her own shadow. His laughter echoed through the little room.

"Where are you? Where's Toby?" She demanded, having become accustomed to the darkness, and realizing that Toby was not there.

"The child? He is nothing to me now. Not now I have you."

"But I wished him away, you took him."

"Why, Sarah. Think very hard," he whispered to her, from so close behind her, she could feel his breathe upon her neck. She turned, only to turn straight into the iron grip of his arms. He answered her question. "So I could take you."

"You can't do that! You tricked me!" He laughed again, and she struggled within his arms, only to find she had nowhere to go.

"This is not a fairy tale, Sarah. This is my world, and here, I have the power."

She shivered, the cold stone of the wall behind her biting through her thin clothing. When had it gotten so cold?

"And you are not going anywhere now."

She was so tired. Why did she feel so tired?

"Welcome to the end…watch your step, Sarah for you are liable to fall," he murmured to her, his words chilling, sending echoing voices spinning around the room. His gaze bore through her, as he came ever closer. And then, as suddenly as he had been there, he was gone, leaving his laughter to echo around her. She felt her arms wrench themselves above her head, where shackles fastened themselves to her, leaving her in the middle of the freezing room, alone. She felt he eyes threatening to close, drowsy after fighting for so long.

"Such a pity…." he murmured.

She had made the wish. She was doomed to be his from the very beginning. And now, she could do nothing to ever break his hold over her. Take her away she had said, before she even made the wish. And he always took people at their word, he thought, grinning maliciously to himself. What he had wanted and lusted after for so long now would finally be his. A mix of pain and pleasure, it would be up to her to decide.

She awoke in the icy prison, her hands still held high above her, her shoulders numb from the cold, and the tremendous strain. She looked around her, still unable to comprehend exactly what had happened to her. He had said she wished for this. She had asked for this. Had she? And then for the first time, she recalled the words she had screamed in frustration. Why can't someone just come and…if she wasn't already numb, she would have shivered. Take me away from this place….and God, he had.

She was too cold to even shiver, and barely breathing, the atmosphere seeming too thick to draw into her frozen body, and then, a voice, a voice that had haunted her every night, and every hour of every day, since she had discovered the little red book, whispering her name, echoing in the darkness, murmuring to her.

Then, as suddenly as if he had always been there, Jareth stood in the centre of the room. His eyes glittering in cold triumph, desire and malice.

"Sarah," he murmured again, almost mockingly, allowing he shackles to disappear, and her to fall onto the icy floor, shaking.

"Will I ever be free of you?" she said, defeated, unable to move.

He appeared to think upon this for a moment. "No." he replied succinctly. "I have fought for you for too long, Sarah, and now I claim my trophy."

"Your obsession will be the death of me," she whispered, unable to look at him, keeping her gaze downcast.

His laugh pounded upon her ears, too loud in the small room.

"I promise you, Sarah, you shall not fade so easily" he walked over to her, forcing he to stand, his finger forcing her to lift her head to meet his gaze.

"Are you cold?" he asked cruelly, watching her tremble in the faint light. It would not take long to break her now. He could already feel her spirit wavering.

"Why have you come back? Why not just leave me here? You have now taken from me everything I ever had. Leave me to my own thoughts, for as long as I might have them in this cold." She could not see him, he had disappeared.

"I hurt so much," she whispered to herself, thinking him gone, when two arms reached around her, and pulled her limp form back against his warmth in a vice like rip, warding off the terrible cold. She was almost grateful for the embrace. Almost. And she hated herself for even that small concession.

"But I can make the pain stop," he whispered again, his lips inches from her ear, his vice a seductive purr. "Tell me again."

She could not fight him anymore. "You have won. I have nothing left to fight you with, nor nothing left to give you."

"Oh, but you do," he continued, running his hands down her arms possessively. "You have your body, your innocence, I could take these things now, truly leaving you with nothing, couldn't I?"

"No," she whispered, trying for the last time to fight him, with what little strength the heat of his body had given her, only to find herself falling, to land upon softness, a bed stretched underneath her, caressing and binding, with him lying beside her.

"Yes. I have been generous so far. Perhaps it is time to be cruel." He murmured, running his hand caressingly, almost gently down the curve of her hip, before taking her wrist in a bruising grip.

"You think that this was ever about the baby, Sarah?" She continued to stare at wide eyed as she struggled. "You fought my calling, and in doing so took the hard road to my embrace. The painful road. The one that had left you with so little strength. But I claimed you as mine, and you will always remain so."

"I cannot stay here forever, please, do not ask me to," she whispered, still determined to fight him.

"I did not ask for forever," he murmured, looking into her very soul, burning her, as his hands swept up her body.

"Then …."

"I never ask." He said arrogantly, pulling a lock of hair taught, and pulling her to him with it.

He moved to cover her body with his, despite her weak attempts to fend him off.

"Now Sarah, you will be mine in body, as well as spirit."

"No," she whispered, determined to fight him even thought. Even though her half frozen body cried out for his touch that felt so good and so terrible at the same time.

He leant down, until his lips were inches from her ear. "Stop fighting," he murmured huskily, his voice sending shivers through her, as his hand slid up her weakly struggling body, nothing gentle about them, one coming to thread through her hair, cradling her face, the other stroking its way up between her breasts, his touch both tender and cruel, full of as iron strength that left her burning and breathless at the same time.

"Why is it you still fight me, Sarah, when you know you cannot win? When you know there is no escape? When you want me as much as I want you? When your body burns for mine. Why do you fight me?" His hand slipped lower and lower, until it slid under the hem of her shirt. She drew in a shuttering breathe, his hand upon her bare skin ridding her of all coherent thought.

"I won't let you do this to me!" She whispered, tossing her head from side to side, pulling it from the grasp o his other hand. Jareth's hand slid up to hold her still, making her face him. "But Sarah," He murmured, his dual coloured eyes boring into her, frightening and stirring with their intensity. "I already have."

She closed her eyes then, trying to shut out his penetrating gaze, until she felt his lips graze her jaw, sending more shivers through her. His hot mouth left scalding, hungry kisses over her neck, her shoulders and jaw, as he whispered seductively to her, "It hurts doesn't it? How your body cries for mine, despite you hate of me. I can feel your need of me. How much longer will your spirit fight what is inevitable, when your body is already mine?" He then covered her body with his completely, and brought his lips to hers in a kiss so hungry and firm, that it broke down the last of her awareness, until the only reality she knew of was that of his cruel mouth, hungrily consuming her.

He ran his hand down her sparsely covered body, bringing it once more under he hem of her shirt, firmly stroking higher and higher, until he held one of her small breasts within his bruising grasp, stroking ad toying with her heated flesh until he felt her moan into his lips, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her reluctant mouth, to taste her sweetness, his tongue plundering her mouth, making her shake, her arms of themselves coming up to wrap around his back, pressing him to her, feeling his body press hers deeply into the sheets.

His lips continued to torment her, as his hands pulled the clothing from her body, as he parted her thighs with his knee, bringing one hand down to stroke her desire, finding her wet with wanting. His teeth bit into her shoulder. Her eyes flew open at the sting. "It hurts doesn't it?" he said, as he stroked within her, her shoulder aching with pain, as the rest of her throbbed with pleasure. "Give in to me, give me all of yourself. Let me have what I would take." His fingers parted her slick folds, one stroking higher, another entering her, making her writhe against his hand, her head thrown back in desire rather than defiance. She pulled him closer still, feeling his arousal pressing against her inner thigh, and his fingers stroked deeper, making her arch against him. She gasped aloud, threading her fingers through his blonde hair.

"Yes?" he whispered, his lips hovering over hers, his eyes boring into hers, as he moved to enter her, placing himself at the entrance of her desire. "Beg for me," he whispered, his lips grazing hers as he paused. Sarah gasped for breathe, unable to deny what her body was feeling. "Take me," she whispered, and suddenly, she found herself in pain, as he thrust into her, filling her with his length. "It hurts, doesn't it?" he repeated, his eyes hard and hot. He reached beneath him to take both her wrists within his grasp, trapping them firmly against the bed, his grip strong enough to bruise, as he began to move within her, his control gone at the feel of her beneath him, around him. He thrust into her harder, with none of his former control, she moving against him, finding enjoyment in the shattering mix of pain and pleasure. His movements contained a feral desire that drove them both over the edge of reason, and left both trembling violently in ecstasy. Years of pent up frustration, lust and desire were spent as he held her to the bed, and continued to thrust into her, until both were too far gone in their pleasure to notice anything but the others touch.

Their release hit them, so powerful ,it left them shaking and limp, as he collapsed over her, both gasping for breathe, her wrists still captured by his hands, her body covered by his, her lips taken captive by his insistent mouth, and her soul stripped of its former reluctance as her body was of its innocence, all by the Goblin King.

Hours later, as she lay in his arms, relaxed against him, for the first time in all their little time together, she whispered to him a question she had long wanted to ask.

"How long will I stay here for?" She asked, her eyes fighting sleep. She felt him stir behind her, before a sleepy voice murmured haughtily, "Until the world falls down."

a/n: I love reviews, and I love feedback. Any story ideas that you'd like to see? From pretty much anything. Let me know. I enjoy writing. Thank you all for reading. (review?)