His name is Jareth, and he claims to love her. He sings poetry to her. How she is gentle and strong, like a river wearing down stone. Of how he longs to sink into her depths, drown in her very being. She trembles to hear his words, and they thrill her.

He tells her that with a word, she would be his and he hers. For as long as she wishes, her life will be full of love and fear for him. Her heart's desire would be given with the wave of a hand. Merely wish it, and the stars would dance for her, the wind would sing to her. That he'd give her a crystal moon. Valentine days, golden mornings, and silver nights.

Sometimes, the way he speaks to her is so desperate. He looks at her, exhausted yet eager to continue. He woos her in such a dizzying way that she can scarcely catch her breath at times. She cannot say she isn't tempted. Even when he is cruel, even when she turns away, he is never false, always generous to forgive. He asks for her fear, demands her love, and would stop the sun if she asked.

He comes to her at night. He never stays if she doesn't wish it, always lingers before vanishing from sight. She is not always sure if he leaves or merely disappears, watches in silence.

She is so tempted because there is so much that she wants that she cannot possibly have. Because he tells her such beautiful things, shows her wonders she'd forgotten could exist. He truly asks for so little, doesn't he? Yet he offers her worlds.

She was a queen once, in another land, and with him, she can be again. Jareth would never send her away, never take everything from her. Not the way He had.

One night he comes to her. She invites him to stay. She wishes to be happy, to be loved, to belong. Before the evening is over, her London flat is left silent and empty. In six months' time, Scotland Yard has given up the search for Susan Pevensie. In less time than that, Susan has forgotten that she was ever anywhere else but with her king.